


Once Bitten

by Arathergrimreaper



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Ableist Language, Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Biting, Blood, Blood Drinking, Branding, Cutting, Dragon Age Lore, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Other, Past Rape/Non-con, Smut, Torture, Vampire AU, Vampire Hunters, Vampires, it's not obvious but just in case, modern dragon age au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2018-06-09 11:45:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 50,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6904627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arathergrimreaper/pseuds/Arathergrimreaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders, a vampire R.N., is just trying to live his life. Fenris, an elven vampire hunter, takes issue with this. When the blood drinker shows him mercy instead of sticking his head on a pike, however, an alternative solution is brought forth that leaves both alive, but tethered. </p><p>Blood bound, the pair try to go about their business without stepping on each other's toes, but soon discover how much they really don't mind the other being in their space. Rating going up in chapter 5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A fic that got away from me like the others. This one won't be as long, though, considering it's just focusing on these two dorks and their fumbling around. 
> 
> Some OOC-ness and mischaracterization may occur. Do feel free to let me know if this is not the case, however, since I'm not that great at telling.
> 
> Also here's a disclaimer: I am not a medical person. I have an aunt who is a registered nurse and that is about it outside of my own research and observations of medical people. So, if I goofed, I am sorry.

Anders was being followed.

It wasn’t exactly the first time and he doubted it would be the last in his current neighborhood, but it was certainly _different_. This time had started just under a fortnight ago and had slowly escalated into the current jumpy speedwalking routine. Whoever it was obviously held no interest in what money he could threaten out of Anders. Merely followed as though trying to find out just where he went after his hospital shift, which was currently the one place no vampire ever wanted someone to find.

 _Vampire hunter._

The thought sent icy fingers down his spine and Anders ran his tongue over one of his canines out of nervous habit. He was sure he had been careful. Not careful enough, it would seem.

Upon stumbling down the steps of his basement apartment, having finally ditched the extra shadow a few blocks back, Anders nearly cried in relief. He was safe. At least, for another night.

His cats were thrilled to see him, as usual. They purred and bandied on about their day and the things they had observed while he was gone. The one good thing about being a soulless, blood-sucking fiend of the night, Anders felt, was getting to actually _speak_ to animals. They even listened more, if one the knack for it. Having something to watch over him during the day and warm him of danger certainly didn’t hurt either.

He had no energy for anything other than feeding his furry roomies and preparing for bed. It had been a while since he’d last been able to collect blood what with having to deal with such a dogged stalker as it would not keep well in summer heat when he spent the good part of two hours trying to lose his tail.

Perhaps the bastard was hoping to starve him out. It just might work, Anders was ashamed to admit.

Due to the lack of regular sustenance, Anders found himself sleeping more and more. Inconvenient when one worked such a hectic shift as he did, what with bleeding patients and constant nightly shifts, but what could he really do? If his stalker _was_ a vampire hunter they wouldn’t just give up. Vampire hunters never give up if either they or their prey aren’t dead.

Karl had been the first to teach Anders that. Hawke had very nearly been the second. It was through them both that Anders learned that vampires have a better chance alone than in groups. Too much blood goes missing at once and a hunter would always turn up, asking questions. It would seem one had turned up anyway. Anders might have even found the idea funny if it wasn’t so absolutely terrifying.

The dark form of Ms. Mittens darted out from behind the blinds of the den window as he emerged from the bathroom, tail bristled like a bottle brush and gold eyes wide.

 _Master, there is someone here. There is someone standing outside._ her raspy voice warned and the others puffed up in sympathetic alarm.

Ser Pounce-A-Lot was the first to fling himself between Anders and the front door, hissing like a viper.

“Let’s not get carried away,” Anders said, going over to scoop the ginger tabby up even as his own gut twisted itself into worried knots, “it could just be Kervana. She takes Winston out early sometimes.”

_There is no dog. Kervana is warm and bright. It is an elf who is cold. So very cold, Master._

Something heavy sunk in the region of Anders’ ribcage and he stroked Ser-Pounce-A-Lot nervously, brown gaze darting toward the window.

“I want you all to hide.” he said, voice as stern as he could manage. “Go to my room and get under the bed. Do not interfere.”

_Master－_

_No._

_Please let us help you._

_This is our home and he is unwelcome. I will claw his fool eyes out._

Despite the light bootsteps he could now hear slowly descending the outside stairs, Anders smiled down at his fiercest little companion whose icy blue eyes promised a severe savaging of ankles. 

“I’ll not have you hurt on my account. Do as I say. _Now_.” Anders said, keeping his voice low. He gently dropped his secret favorite into the direction of the hallway, glad to see the other three complying. Posture grudging, at best.

 _But－_ Ser Pounce began.

The front door’s handle began jiggling as though someone were attempting to pick the lock.

Anders merely jabbed his finger toward his room, eyes on the aged wood. Another perk of his vampirism: he could make himself practically invisible to anything without a dog’s sense of smell just by bending light or shadows accordingly. Anders wasn’t sure how well it worked on his current problem, but it was not as though he had much of a choice.

He had only just pulled the darkness in around him when there was a click and the door slowly swung open, revealing a rather tall elf standing on the worn welcome mat in the creeping pre-dawn light. As he warily entered, Anders caught the pattern of scar-like marks on his throat and chin and wondered what they were from. Surely they weren’t tattoos?

Watching him move, Anders was reminded of an endangered jungle cat he had seen in a nature show about Par Vollen once. Lithe grace that belied a strength one should know better than play around with if they did not wish to lose a hand. He had the tell-tale ears of elfhood, all right. Flexible and long, they twitched, no doubt listening intently. His pale hair fell nearly into the reflective eyes that swept the room with no small amount of disdain, if the wrinkling of his brow and generous nose was anything to go by. 

Anders felt the slightest bit of offense. How could anyone judge a house they were seeing in semi-darkness? It wasn’t as though he didn’t try his best to tidy up every night before he went on shift.

 _Though, to be fair, it’s probably more of a personal problem,_ Anders mused bitterly, _me being a vampire and all._

Still. 

_What an ass._

Judgemental Asshole wasted no time in shutting the door behind him then reaching in his leather jacket for something he did not pull out into view, which only served to ratchet Anders’ worry up another few degrees.

Taking a steadying breath, Anders maneuvered his way carefully behind J.A. He was suddenly grateful he already changed out of his scrubs or they might have broke the illusion with their rustling. Cat puke-stained sweatpants could very well be his salvation tonight.

Fortunately, the hunter did not check his back very often. When that angry gaze did turn toward him, Anders stood stock-still, holding his breath feeling more petrified than predatory. Not for the first time, he envied those of his kind who could shift into animal form. At least then maybe he could escape notice or turn into something particularly dreadful to scare people off.

He was a shaking wreck before they even reached the bathroom, where the hunter spared only a cursory glance before proceeding to the last door, left slightly ajar. Anders’ room; where his poor friends had taken to hiding.

His heart froze in his chest. What if the hunter found them? Would he leave them be or kill them out of spite?

It became clear J.A. thought he was close to getting the drop on a vampire almost instantly. His pulse shot up enough for Anders to actually _hear_ it and between that and the ever-deepening smell of perspiring elf, Anders’ mouth began to water.

 _Oh Maker, not now._ he silently pleaded, but could already feel his fangs pressing into his lower lip as they lengthened. It’s been over a decade since Anders fed straight from the source, and with good reason. Stopping was just too difficult once he started and he was so out of it afterwards. Blood dazes made one vulnerable. Vulnerable to things like hunters breaking into your home and threatening you and your familiars with eternal sleep.

Holding fast to the tiny spark of righteous anger he felt for his cats, Anders leaned into J.A.’s throat space. He would drink the elf dry before allowing any harm to come to the animals he rescued. Even if he was walking funny later as a result of it.

Something very hard and very pointy against his his sternum stalled him.

Anders glanced down to see a freshly sharpened stake placed directly over his heart, peeking out from under Judgemental Asshole’s left arm, held in his right. The very same hand that he had placed into his jacket earlier. Of course he would have one, but the sight and feel of it made Anders insides turn cold.

Everything appeared to be moving in slow-motion as J.A. turned to face the place he should be, pressing in close, green gaze seeking him out.

“Show. Yourself.” he said in a voice like low-rolling thunder.

Anders clamped his mouth shut, nibbling his bottom lip anxiously.

The stake bit into him harder, nearly causing him to cry out in fear alone.

“I will not ask again.”

On his next exhale, Anders dropped his camouflage and did his utmost to stand as tall as he was able despite being about three inches shorter than the elf before him.

“There you are. Any last words, abomination?” The way the hunter growled the last word had Anders hissing in denial. He wasn’t as unnatural as, say, the demons that drifted about all over the countryside or the people who paid millions for dragon skulls to decorate their foyers. His was a case of severe anemia in comparison. 

A high, angry screech above them punctured the tense silence first and both their heads whipped up to investigate.

Anders could only gape as Ser-Pounce-A-Lot sprung from the wall shelf into the face of the hunter, claws out and eyes alight with rage. 

J.A. swore in what Anders vaguely recognized as Tevene, dropping the stake to try and pull the cat off. No small feat since Ser Pounce appeared to have sunk his claws into the hunter’s scalp and was kicking with his back feet against his neck, drawing quite a lot of blood from what Anders’ could see.

 _Flee, I will hold him!_ Ser Pounce’s usual brusque timbre was tinged with an odd reverb that jolted Anders’ out of his trance. Snatching the stake up, he snapped it into fourths, rendering it useless. He just hoped it wasn’t one of many.

It took a bit of coaxing, but he finally talked Ser Pounce-A-Lot into abandoning his suicide mission and bade him leave the hunter to him. Which of course meant he carefully pried him off J.A.’s face and threw him into his room, firmly shutting the door to keep him inside. The thought of a powerful vampire needing a cat to save him was more than slightly embarrassing. 

Thankfully, Judgemental Asshole was suffering from the struggle, leaning on the nearest wall with a gloved hand clasped to the scratches on his throat. It wasn’t until Anders peered closer at his exposed wrist that he saw the real reason the fight had drained him.

The markings he bore _were_ scars, raised and silvery against his brown skin, but stylized. Like perhaps he gave them to himself. Anders had read about scarification practices, but honestly thought it all rather extreme. He was a nurse, after all. Do no harm and all that. The most adventurous he got with semi-permanent body mods were ear piercings and he wasn’t even allowed to wear his at work.

“Keep your hands and fangs to yourself, monster.” 

The warning was gasped out, but the hunter straightened, as though trying to prove he could make good on his threat. 

Anders did not even know he’d moved forward, hand already out in sympathy. It had to be hurting him and the damage could be extensive judging by the steady flow of blood around his fingers. Scar tissue was so much weaker than healthy skin, he might even bleed to death at the rate he was going.

 _He kind of deserves it. Bastard is here to fucking kill me._ Anders reminded himself, crossing his arms across his t-shirt clad chest. One look at those increasingly fluttering eyelids and the slump of those shoulders and he knew he could not even really consider it, however.

_Shit. Damn it. **Fuck.**_

“Into the bathroom with you.” he said out loud.

“What?”

“I know you’re not deaf. Bathroom. You. Go.”

Again, his nose wrinkled as if the very idea of bathrooms and a vampire having one pissed him off. “What are you up to?”

“You’re bleeding all over the carpet and I want my deposit back. That’s what I’m up to. Besides, all of my antiseptic and bandages are in there.”

At that, one of J.A.’s thick black brows rose and his eyes scanned Anders up and down. Good to know that elf night vision was on par with that of a vampire. He wouldn’t have to waste electricity turning on a bunch of lights.

“I do not need your help.” was all he said, pushing off the wall with his free arm. His knees buckled and he swayed, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Considering it was my cat that sliced you open like a Wintersend ham, I think I’m obligated.” Anders said, shrugging.

To his surprise, the hunter released a sound like laughter before covering it up with a cough instead.

“Allow me to at least leave with my dignity if you are not planning on killing me tonight.” he said.

“What dignity? You got owned by a kitty, elf.”

That earned him a glare, but Anders found he did not mind it so much now. The hunter had a dark charm to him that he was sure gained him many second glances, if not heated full-body sweeps, and more than one poor lonely fool creaming their pants if he bothered to notice them in return.

Oh brother, had it really been so long that Anders was checking out his would-be, and-probably-will-still-try assassin? He needed sleep. Or sex. Probably both.

The blood was definitely becoming harder to ignore, too.

“Look, just let me take a look at it. I can at least patch you up until you can get to a hospital if it’s really bad, okay?” Anders was using his “problem patient” voice and he knew it, but Maker, he was exhausted and the sooner he could get the elf out of his apartment with the least amount of guilt on his part, the sooner he could fall into a light coma for the day.

After a pregnant pause, interrupted only by the hunter’s breathing, he seemed to acquiesce. Moving into the cramped bathroom with only mild flinching when Anders turned on the light and squeezed past him to get to the medicine cabinet, Judgemental Asshole dropped down onto the edge of the bathtub.

 _That should probably be addressed as well._ Anders thought.

“I’m Anders.” he said, taking out some solution and gauze.

Silence.

“That’s my name.”

More silence.

“I can just keep calling you ‘Judgemental Asshole’ in my head, if you prefer. Or ‘elf’. Or ‘Guy-Who-Tried-To-Kill-Me-Until-My-Cat-Kicked-His-Sorry－’.”

“Fenris.” came the reply.

“Whaaaaat?” Anders drawled pleasantly, tilting his head as though hard of hearing.

“My name is Fenris, you insufferable twit. You realize now I have to kill you just to keep you quiet about this?” 

Anders snorted, dropping the toilet lid down so he could settle himself on it across from his reluctant charge with his supplies. “As if death can halt my ability to be insufferable. That’s almost cute, really. Move your hand and lift your head up, please.”

Not surprisingly, Fenris was slow to comply. Revealing his bare throat to a vampire probably went against everything he’d been taught at whatever murderous school baby hunters got shipped to. Unable to resist teasing him a bit more, Anders smiled, showing his fangs.

“I don’t bite, you know.” he said cheekily.

Rolling his eyes, Fenris tipped his head back and peeled his fingers away to reveal several ragged cuts from his chin to his collarbone. Fortunately, the worst of the bleeding appeared to be from one small spot beneath his jaw where a claw had stripped scarred skin away. No serious artery damage then, but lots of blood. A quick check above each ear showed no significant harm from Ser Pounce’s front paws, at least.

Anders still winced at the sight of Fenris’ neck, willing his hunger down, and spritzed antiseptic on a cotton square to gently clean his injuries. He chanted apologies when the elf hissed in pain at the contact.

“You do this often then?” he asked.

“You should know since you’ve been following me home so much. I mean, I do work at a hospital.”

Fenris’ eyebrows raised comically and Anders felt he was missing something.

“What? You have to have known I work there by now, right?”

“To be honest, I thought you merely passed as medical personnel to gain access to new victims.” Fenris admitted, voice quiet. Anders spared him a quick glance and saw he looked rather unsure, a pretty flush spreading over his face. Impressive, after losing as much blood as he had.

“Well, I’m actually an R.N. Got this fancy nursing degree and everything.” he offered, curiously sliding a finger over one of the smaller scars at the base of Fenris’ throat as he placed gauze above it. Definitely not the result of some accident, the delicate branching lines put him in the mind of the leaves on a fern.

“You treat people?”

“Doctors technically do that and perform the surgeries. R.N.s do everything else in between, though, it feels like.”

“You do not feed off your patients’ life blood?”

Anders felt his face twist into a wry grin. “Doctors do that too, I’m afraid.”

“Then what _have_ you been feeding from?” Fenris’ tone held a hint of amusement under the growing impatience.

“Bagged donated blood, of course. I haven’t fed on a live person in years.”

“So, that is why you chose to become a nurse.”

“Nope,” Anders said, securing his work with bandage tape, “that was a bonus, I’ll admit, but I figured the least I could do was help the creatures my kind depend on to live. It’s called ‘giving back’ and I don’t mind doing it even if the pay could be better and my bosses are disorganized as shit.”

“You are. . .surprising.”

“What exactly did you expect? I can’t speak for all vampires, but I rather like living my life and not getting into trouble with hunters if I can avoid it.”

“Yet, here you are, administering care to one you could have easily killed, if the way you destroyed my stake is any indication of what you are capable of.” Fenris pointed out, lowering his head to level his emerald stare on the other when given a thumbs up to let him know he could move freely again.

“You were never in any real danger from me.” Anders told him with a shrug.

“You say after making yourself invisible and following me through your home.”

Anders gathered his thoughts, tossing the bloodied cotton into the wastebin. “To tell you the truth, I didn’t have a plan or anything. I just kind of hoped if you couldn’t find me and I stayed really quiet, you would just leave us alone.”

Receiving no comment on his lack of practicality, Anders looked back around at Fenris, who stared at him as though he had corn growing out of his ears.

“What?”

“You hoped I would go away? Made no plans to do anything about me other than hide? Even after I finally discovered where you live?”

“Um, yeah, pretty much. Except towards the end when I thought you might hurt my fur babies.”

Fenris lifted the hand not coated in drying blood to his eyes to press the fingers into them in exasperation and Anders did feel a bit self-conscious. Despite the absurdity of his logic, the whole ordeal seemed to be working out all right anyway.

“Well, you got a proper shredding,” Anders said, standing to put everything away, “but other than a sore neck and maybe a new scar or two, I think you’ll be fine. Keep them clean, though. There’s no telling where Ser Pounce-A-Lot’s claws have been lately.”

“You named your cat ‘Ser Pounce-A-Lot?’” Fenris asked, his tone incredulous.

“He likes it.” Anders replied defensively.

“I cannot believe I was so worried about what you were doing to the people of this town. This has to be some sort of joke, there is no way you are this clownish and toothless.”

“Pardon me for not being more stereotypical, I guess.” Anders huffed, shooting him a glare and shoving past his legs on his way out of the bathroom. Slapping off the light, he threw over his shoulder, “Make sure you lock the door on your way out and eat something to help regulate your blood sugar, you ungrateful douche.”

It was petty and childish, but true dawn was trickling in around the thick blanket he had nailed up in front of the window and, fuck it, Anders was _tired_. The stress of the morning and the stress of having to go back on shift later combined to push his mood from “nervous tolerance” straight into “over it”. At least if he was murdered in his sleep, he wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore.

“I suppose I owe you my thanks.” Fenris called after him. Anders paused on the way to his room and spared a look back at the elf, who moved to lean against the door jamb, one hand gingerly prodding at his bandages.

“Damn right you do.” Anders muttered under his breath.

“Still, a vampire’s nature is as immutable as the sunrise. It would be irresponsible on my part to allow you to slink about unchecked.”

Anders threw his hands up in frustration.

“You were calling me ‘clownish’ and ‘toothless’ a minute ago, now all of a sudden I’m public enemy number one again? You need help. I’m going to bed.”

“Perhaps we can compromise?”

His smooth baritone held something Anders did not completely trust in it, but he still hesitated.

“What sort of compromise?”

To his credit, Fenris looked uncomfortable with whatever he was about to suggest. He chewed his full bottom lip, eyes fixed on where his blood had dyed the cream-colored carpet a rusty brown.

“You will not particularly care for it. Neither will I, truthfully, but I propose an exchange.” he finally said.

“Like what? Just so you know, I barely make enough to afford this place and to feed four cats, so money might not be the best thing－” Anders started in only to be cut off.

“Blood.”

“Excuse me?”

“I know you are not deaf.” Fenris parroted his words back to him.

“I wish I was, honestly, because that is the worst idea you’ve had all night as far as I’m concerned.” Anders deadpanned.

Truthfully, the idea of feeding from such an infuriating, hot mess of an elf nearly undid him. He was far too hungry to be having this conversation.

“Yes, but if it will keep you in check－”

“Maker, you talk as if swapping blood with each other is some sort of babysitting service.” Anders said, voice muffled as he dragged his hands down his face. “Let me clue you in: it isn’t.”

“It creates a two-way bond,” Fenris supplied. He started making his way toward him, deadly grace obvious once more, and Anders fought the urge to back away. “A bond in which both parties are acutely aware of each other, even over great distances. I know.”

“Then you should also know,” Anders bit out, a heady mix of panic and arousal flooding his system, “it’s a very intimate thing. Not something for casual acquaintances, especially not the ones that try and kill you.”

“It is either that or me killing you. I cannot take any chances.” Fenris stated dryly coming to a stop not two inches away, his gaze boring into Anders’.

“Why are you _such_ a dick?” Anders demanded, internally cursing his own bleeding heart for trapping him in such a predicament. The worst part was he didn’t even regret it, just wished his current house guest would have bothered someone else.

Fenris’ brow furrowed and he slowly brought a hand up to lift Anders’ upper lip with his thumb, revealing one of his elongated fangs.

“The very idea of blood is putting you into a agitated state.” he said, pulling his hand away. It did not sound like the accusation it was. “Your pupils are dilated and your right hand is twitching. It is only a matter of time.”

“Maybe,” annoyance gave Anders’ voice an edge. At least, that is what he would tell himself later, possibly after he had a very stern talk with his cock about getting all excited when being threatened, “if some Tevinter asshole hadn’t kept me from living my damn life for almost half a month, I would have had some blood by now.”

Fenris almost seemed chagrined. Almost.

“I know you have little reason to trust me.” he said.

“You mean _no_ reason to trust you. _At all_.”

“I do not trust you either.”

“Good thing to know, that.”

“If it were up to me, all of your kind would be eliminated or bound to someone who could ensure you never hurt anyone ever again.” His voice was like velvet over sandpaper.

“ _Oh yes_ , keep talking dirty to me,” Anders only sort of fake moaned, rolling his eyes. “Going to tie me up and call me your filthy little bloodsucker later?”

“If I find it necessary.” Fenris replied in his usual cadence. The twitch of his lips gave him away, however.

“Also good to know I’m binding myself to a freak. It really is the little blessings.”

“You agree then?”

Anders sighed heavily through his nose. 

“It isn’t as though I have much of a choice is it?” he asked.

“Vampires do not have the luxury of choice when lives are on the line. At this point, you are merely taking responsibility for your actions.”

“You know, I like you much better when you don’t talk. If I do this, then I want to negotiate some shit first.”

Fenris actually seemed surprised by that. 

“Like what?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Like access to your blood.”

“You said you don’t feed directly from the vein.” Was that a note of panic he detected?

“I don’t, but if you’re going to be watching over me afterwards, then yes, I want it. Maybe once a week or so.”

The color that stained Fenris’ face was not as vibrant in the dim hallway, but no less flattering for it, Anders’ thought.

“Fine. What else?”

“As you probably already know, I am a creature of the night, not a creature of the light. Things I can’t do during the day, guess what?”

A long, drawn-out sigh and then,

“You expect _me_ to do them?”

“You got it, sweet cakes. I’m not going to be the only one wearing a choke chain here, remember? This is a two-way street. If you’re going to tie this down, you’re going to help pay the rent, so to speak.”

As much fun he was having letting Fenris know exactly how this was going to go, Anders felt it only fair to warn him.

“This bonding. . .you might feel some things you don’t fully understand. So. . .be prepared for that. And promise me one thing.” he said.

“That I will not give in to the urge to stake you after you have taken my blood or made me run errands from sunup to sundown?” Fenris offered.

“Okay, two things. Don’t get all weird on me.”

“Define ‘weird’.”

“As a hypothetical? Don’t fall in love with me, you’ll just get hurt. We clear?”

Fenris snorted, his nose doing that mildly endearing wrinkling thing again.

“So much so I can see through you.” he said, disgusted.

“Good. Go sit on my bed. Mind my cats, they hate you.” Anders said, feeling quite chipper, before pacing around Fenris to get a cup from the kitchen. Passing the blood stain on the carpet, he bemoaned having to soak and scrub it out later. 

_Good thing I have someone to pick up carpet cleaner for me then._ he thought, grinning.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got a bit long, but not as long as I originally feared so yay?
> 
> There are a bit more tagged things on this chapter though such as past abusive relationships and blood tears. Dark, sad pasts are a thing (don't act like ya'll didn't see that coming). Also, two new kitties, sorta. Yay!
> 
> More OOC-ness than the first chapter and for that, I do apologize. OTL

Fenris was shocked the vampire had agreed to the exchange. He only offered because it seemed the decent thing to do. Now that he was about to actually go through with it, however, he thought he much preferred the option where he just staked Anders and went on about his day. It was his fault his throat was in such a state to begin with. Or, at the very least, it was his cat’s.

Speaking of which. . . .

The four-legged devil was currently hissing and spitting at him from the bed Anders had so politely invited him to, preventing Fenris’ approach.

“So, we meet again, mini-tiger.” Fenris said, doing his best to look non-threatening beside the night stand.

Three other cats had crept from under the bed and now lay upon it, watching the exchange as if it were the most amusement they had had in weeks. 

Perhaps it was, Fenris conceded. Anders did not seem the variable and outgoing type from what little the hunter managed to glean from him.

Then again, he had agreed to bonding with Fenris. 

They were virtual strangers, and not the “just trying to meet someone new” sort either. “Mortal enemies” would be a far more apt descriptor. 

Fenris was still trying to figure out whether Anders was simply naïve or desperate to live when the subject in question strolled in, carrying a coffee mug in one hand and in the other. . .oh.

“I don’t know if you wanted these back or not, but I figured I better give them to you so they’re not just _there_ in my house.” Anders said, sounding sheepish as he handed over the pieces of the stake Fenris had only carved the previous night. “Be a shame if Captain Chokey got a hold of one, at any rate.”

Fenris knew there was a good chance he would regret asking, but why not?

“‘Captain Chokey’?” 

“The cat with one eye, there? He likes to eat things he really shouldn’t, then he chokes on them. Done that ever since I brought him home. Says it’s a nervous habit of his, the poor wretch.” Anders explained, cooing at the cat in question.

That. That was why not.

“So you named him ‘Captain Chokey’?”

“He doesn’t mind it.”

“Told you this, did he?”

“Yes.”

Fenris could feel a new pain to match his sore and throbbing neck starting up behind his eye. He pointed to a still visibly upset and pacing Ser Pounce-A-Lot with a piece of stake.

“If you are so good at speaking the language of beasts, then call off your attack cat. He has been glaring at me since I entered.”

“Still?” Anders asked, going up to the edge of the bed, where the cat met him with nothing but purrs, much to Fenris’ added annoyance. Sighing, Anders threw his empty cup down on the comforter and picked the feline up, holding him at eye level.

“All right, Mr. Grumpypants, what’s your problem? Hmm?”

All the tabby did was gaze back at him, stretching his legs one at a time and yawning.

“Well, you need to be nice now. He isn’t going to hurt anybody anymore, okay?”

Fenris could not help feeling like he was on some sort of prank show. If it were not for the sudden flash of light behind Ser Pounce’s blue eyes, he might have even laughed.

“What is that?” he asked, peering over Anders to get a better look.

“What’s what?” Anders replied, still glaring into his cat’s face.

“That light. Is this a normal occurrence with him?”

“Oh yeah. Along with this weird voice he has. He’s just special like the others.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so. Now, let’s get this show on the road.”

Anders set Ser Pounce on the floor beside the bed before crawling on top of it, shooing the other cats off. After settling himself, he patted the spot beside him, snatching up the mug again.

“Come on, get comfy.” he said.

“We have only just met and you are trying to get me into bed with you?” Fenris quipped, hoping he sounded much less alarmed than he felt. Truthfully, it would not be the strangest outcome to one of his hunts gone awry, but he did feel there was a bit more at stake than usual.

“Pfft, please. You are the furthest thing from my type, elfy. Like, Anderfels from the Brecilian Forest, far.” 

Ouch. Well, all right then. Not that Fenris had expected much else, but it made a tiny part of him whimper like a kicked dog all the same. That a completely ridiculous excuse for a vampire could elicit such a reaction from him in the first place grated against his nerves even more than the fact that he had been the one to suggest this ritual to begin with.

Steeling his nerves, Fenris deposited the remains of the stake on the night stand and perched on the edge of the bed, feet determinedly planted on the floor. 

“You look stiff as a board.” Anders said.

“I do not wish to make a habit of relaxing around you.” Fenris replied, eyeing Ser Pounce-A-Lot as the cat leaped up beside him.

“Suit yourself then. How do you want to go about collecting the blood? I can bite you or. . .”

His voice trailed into tense silence when Fenris produced a sizable knife from inside his jacket. Stripping the garment off to give himself access to his arms, he watched at the vampire’s startled face as his gaze moved between him and the pieces of stake beside them.

“You did not seriously believe that stake was the only weapon I had on me, did you?” he asked, his disbelief growing with every moment he spent near his host.

Color flooded Anders’ pale face. 

“Of course not,” he said, laughing nervously. “That would be ridiculous, right? Coming to a vampire’s home with only the _one_ thing to viciously impale them with, what was I thinking? I mean, I _had_ kind of hoped－”

“I can still do that, if you prefer.” Fenris assured him. He made a point of trying to drop his heavy jacket on Ser Pounce-A-Lot, but the cat gracefully bounded out of the way and hissed at him in retaliation.

“No, no. This way is, well, not _best_ , by any means. I guess we’ll just call it better than me having to die for now.”

“You may eat those words later.”

“Well, here’s hoping I don’t. Blood, c’mon.” Anders prompted, mug held out.

“You’re using a cup? How civilized of you.”

“I may have misspoke earlier. We won’t so much as be swapping blood as we will be mixing and drinking it. This just makes things easier.”

Fenris made a shallow cut on the back of his left arm, right across one of the swirling scars he despised. Sadistic souvenirs from the first vampire he ever encountered, they served as a stark reminder why it was unwise to trust any of them. Yet, here he was again, opening up a vein for a vampire who had shown him the smallest bit of kindness.

The elf took the time to read what the mug said as he moved his arm over the mouth of it, avoiding looking at the hungry expression across from him and reflecting on darker times. It had the image of a very surly cat on it with the words “I have lived nine lives and this is the worst one” in bold letters across the top. Fenris couldn’t help a snort of laughter at it.

“What’s so funny?” Anders asked, eyes fixed squarely on the blood dripping before him.

“You have something of an obsession with cats. You do know this?”

“It’s not an obsession.” Anders said. “They’re great company.”

Fenris doubted this, but kept his piece. It would not do to insult the vampire who currently looked at his bleeding arm like he would look at a well-cooked sirloin, after all.

“How much do you need? Surely, you do not have to fill it.” Fenris said, starting to pull his arm back, but Anders caught it by the wrist.

There was a moment where Fenris thought he would have to forget about honor and simply put Anders down like a bloodsucking dog. Those oak-hued eyes shone in the dim light, pupils blown wide. A pink tongue swept over even pinker lips, parted as they were around growing fangs.

“Anders.” Fenris said firmly, heart slamming against his rib cage when that strawberry-blond head bent toward his blood as though hypnotized by it. He had his knife in hand and was about to bring it down into Anders’ back when he felt a quick, wet swipe over his cut skin that froze him in place. Then another.

Anders licked him twice more before releasing his arm and pulling away. He smiled, mumbling awkward apologies, and before biting into his own wrist and resting it on the edge of the mug, now a half full with Fenris’ own blood.

“I thought you might be gone.” Fenris admitted, lowering his knife.

“To be honest, I was for a moment. Wonder whose fault that could be.” Anders said, tone only slightly accusatory. He nodded at Fenris’ arm. “Figured I could at least stop the bleeding for you.”

Fenris glanced down to see the bleeding really _had_ stopped though the cut was still there. 

“You could do that this whole time?” he asked. “Why did you bother bandaging my throat if you could have just licked it better?”

Anders smirked. Eyes twinkling with mischief, he asked,

“Want me licking more of you, do you?” 

Fenris felt his face heat and cursed himself for walking right into that one. Then again for being such a sucker for a pretty face. Oh, Anders was definitely pretty, like most of his damnable species. Pretty and conniving and twisted beyond belief, Fenris had to remind himself. He may have spared this one, but only because Anders seemed more preoccupied with what his cats were having for dinner rather than what he was most of the time.

It was a flimsy excuse, and he knew it. His friend, Isabela, would have tutted over the fact that he was making excuses to begin with.

 _If you enjoy something, just go for it, sourpuss, no justifications needed._ her sultry voice chided clearly in his mind. 

If she knew what exactly had captured his interest, that advice would be promptly followed by, 

_Have your fun, then stake his parasitic ass the moment you finish._

The hunter took some comfort in that.

“This should be enough.” 

That admittedly lovely voice brought him back to see that Anders held the mug out to him, swirling it as he staunched the flow in his wrist, but Fenris shook his head.

“You first.” he said.

If he was asked to describe the look Anders gave him, ‘uncomfortable’ would not begin to cover it.

“I’m not sure how this will affect me after so long without and I’m not ready for you to see me like that yet.” he said, looking anywhere but at Fenris. 

Well, that intrigued him.

“Like _what_?” he asked, eyeing the cup warily.

“I get. . .a little silly when I feed on fresh blood. More so than most. They aren’t my proudest moments, to say the least.” Anders hedged.

“Really? Every time?”

A defeated sigh and then, “Yes and yes. We refer to it as being ‘blood dazed’ or ‘blood drunk’. Things like alcohol don’t have much of an affect on us, but blood can in the right amount so some vampires choose to drink themselves stupid on it. It. . .doesn’t take a lot for me.”

“That is what you meant by having me ‘watch over you afterwards’?” Fenris said, smiling despite himself. “You realize I am going to see you like that eventually then? Why be so shy about it now?”

“I’m not exactly proud of being such a lightweight, okay? The members of my old clan teased me relentlessly for it.” Anders said and he looked truly upset by the idea. 

“Why take my blood at all then?” Fenris asked.

Anders glanced up at him, looking more than a little guilty. 

“I miss it.” His voice was so quiet, Fenris almost didn’t hear him. “It’s different from drinking out of a bag, you understand. Having someone give something of themselves to you, especially while bonded to them, is this whole other experience. Better than sex, even, and. . .I miss it.”

Fenris felt he was wading into dangerous waters, but he decided to ask anyway.

“You have been bound to someone before?”

Anders nodded, staring at the contents of the mug now clasped between both of his hands. He brought it to his lips and took a couple generous swallows before passing the rest to Fenris.

“The vampire who made me was also my lover.” he explained, swiping his tongue over his teeth in apparent ecstasy. “Karl and I bound ourselves to each other three nights after my turning. How did _you_ even know about blood exchanges or that they can work between you and me?”

Fenris paused with the mug halfway to his mouth, considering just how much he should reveal. Anders face was curious, but he did not push, welcoming Ser Pounce-A-Lot to his lap for petting. It was not lost on the hunter that he had just revealed something deeply personal about himself. Fenris supposed it could not hurt for him to do the same.

“I was nearly bound to one of you before.” he only half-lied, downing the remainder of the blood with a grimace. He did not know what vampires found so appealing about a substance that tasted like salted metal, but he hoped he never lived to find out.

“Oh really? This a habit of yours, then? Seeking out single vampires to take advantage of their vulnerability and make them yours? Sounds like a saucy romance novel.” Anders said, snickering.

“Remind me to never introduce you to Varric then. If the dwarf had his way, I would be the subject of about ten of his works.” Fenris said, setting the empty mug down next to the stake pieces. “I was about as gullible and naive as you are now so, needless to say, someone took advantage of _me_.”

“Gee, thanks. I’m sorry you had to deal with that, though.”

“You do not even know what was done to me.” Fenris pointed out. He began to feel hot, as though the temperature had jumped twenty degrees in the last ten seconds. He stripped off his gloves, tossing them onto his jacket and ran his hands through his hair, feeling the dampness of sweat as his heart picked up speed.

“Don’t have to.” Anders assured him, shifting to lay down and cuddle the cat. “Someone broke your trust and you obviously cared enough about them to consider bonding with them. That’s fucking low-down and dirty, no matter how you spin it.”

Again, Fenris was surprised at Anders’ odd penchant for empathy, but he did not get a chance to tell him so before the vampire jerked, gasping in pain. Fenris reached for his shoulder, careful to avoid Ser Pounce-A-Lot who had squirmed free and was circling his master in alarm, but doubled over the next instant. Fire erupted in his belly and surged through his limbs, forcing him down next to Anders.

“Kaffas, is this it?” Fenris demanded as another wave of heat ripped through him. Anders sounded breathless when he replied,

“Why do you think I made us do this in a bed? All you want to do is curl up in a ball and die until it’s over.”

Fenris found he could not disagree with that sentiment as his insides burned, his injured neck itching enough to have him pawing at the gauze. When he finally managed to peel some of it off, his fingers met slick, unbroken, skin. The blood was acting far quicker than he expected and Fenris let out a low groan at the currents of vampire essence scorching his veins.

“Hey Fenris,” Anders panted.

“What, you wretched creature?”

“If it’s any consolation, turning feels worse than this.”

“A negligible one, but thank you.” Fenris admitted through clenched teeth.

“Any time.”

*~*

Nearly two weeks passed since that fateful encounter, and Fenris could honestly say the bonding process was the least of what he was not prepared for.

After waking up beside Anders, his blood having finally cooled, Fenris had spent his every waking moment consumed with feelings not his own. It figured that the vampire was as emotional as he was foolish. He did not seem to really mind Fenris continuing to hunt down others of his kind－even listened intently when the elf recounted some of his more difficult kills.

Fenris could not pretend it was not taking a toll on himself, however. There were a few times where he was unpleasantly reminded that, had the events of the night he met Anders gone differently, it would have been his vampire being staked, his body dragged outside for the sun to dispose of the next morning.

 _His_ vampire? When had that happened? 

Perhaps it was when Fenris had arrived back at the trailer that first night. Anders had texted him from work to eat something substantial before he passed out and “worried people” despite not knowing Fenris regularly checked in with two other hunters.

It might have even had happened when Fenris, feeling Anders’ fear loud and clear in his own head, ran the ten minute drive to his apartment door and kicked it in. He discovered Anders, who screamed girlishly at his brusque entry, merely watching a scary movie alone in the dark. 

Personally, Fenris thought the real turning point was most likely when Anders first requested his blood.

He arrived just after sunset on Anders’ day off, as instructed when he half-grudgingly acquiesced. Anders had made him promise to eat a couple hours beforehand and as he knocked on the new door, Fenris could already sense the anxious question bobbing in Anders’ mind as he answered it.

“Yes, I ate.” he sighed, brushing past him into the apartment. Ser Pounce-A-Lot growled at him from the back of the couch, the cat’s usual greeting whenever he visited.

“I just wanted to make sure. How are you feeling? Sick, dizzy? You haven’t taken any pills or anything, have you?” Anders babbled, closing and locking the door.

“Worried I will not taste as nice as you think?” Fenris asked as he shooed Ser Pounce off so he could sit without having his ears batted at.

Anders turned a flattering shade of red, settling beside him. The bonded part of Fenris, which he had fondly dubbed the Anders Zone, pinged with something suspiciously like fear.

“That’s not it. I just. . .I want you to have every advantage, in case I－”

He broke off, reaching up to yank his hair out of its typical messy ponytail in frustration.

“You’re armed?” he asked, rebinding his hair up and out of the way. He sounded more miserable than excited.

“Always.” Fenris assured him. He reached inside his jacket and pulled a fresh stake out for Anders to see, reveling a little in the surge of fear it produced.

“Good.”

They sat in tense silence for five minutes. Fenris only knew because he counted them to distract himself from the maelstrom of feelings swirling about in the Anders Zone.

“Are you. . . ?” he prompted.

“Ugh, I don’t know.” Anders groaned, dropping his face into his hands. Fenris would not necessarily mind if he decided to call it off, but he did have a few things he _would_ mind to keep avoiding. Isabela had nearly had an ecstatic fit when he told her he had plans and could not go out drinking with her and Varric. After dodging her prying questions about what exactly he was getting up to and with whom and in what positions, Fenris was not looking forward to the chat she would expect when she recovered from her hangover.

“You were the one demanding my blood.” Fenris reminded Anders without his usual venom. “If I am honest, that would have been perfect grounds for simply killing you instead of bonding with you, all things considered.”

“Why didn’t you then?” Anders asked, rearranging himself on the couch for what seemed the tenth time. “Was I just too precious for you to go through with it?”

“More like already too pathetic. I imagine it would feel like putting an injured animal out of its misery.” Fenris lied smoothly. He felt something touch his shoulder and looked down to see it was Anders’ hand, those deceptively delicate fingers drumming against his clavicle. Fenris had grown so accustomed to the little touches by now that he had come to almost crave them when they were not there. An odd feeling for someone who, for so long, hated being touched casually, if at all.

Fenris blamed it, like much of the odd occurrences he had recently endured, on the bond. 

“It’s not that I don’t trust you to stop me if I go too far, I do.” Anders said slowly and Fenris realized with no small amount of irritation the vampire was learning to read him as well. “I just really hate the idea of proving you right.”

“You will have to be more specific. I am right about a great many things regarding you.”

“I. . .am not a monster.”

Fenris tried to meet his eyes, but they were fixed firmly on Anders’ jean-clad knee.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I know I’m not the best person in the world,” Anders continued. “I’m late on paying a lot. Half the time my lights aren’t on because the electricity’s been shut off. My cats aren’t updated on their shots. I dress like I’m homeless and I really couldn’t care less if creatures like me are getting the classic stake and burn as long as it’s nobody I know.”

The creeping tendrils of guilt in the pit of his stomach had Fenris wanting to stop him. He opened his mouth to do so, but Anders wasn’t done.

“I have collected so many parking tickets over the years that I finally just gave up driving altogether to hide from the courts. Did you know Kervana’s girlfriend, Josie, wears these tiny boxers with bunnies on them? I do because I like to people-watch waaaaaay too much, but only the weirdos are out at the park at night so I have to settle for _watching normal people in their houses_.”

“Anders,” Fenris said, reaching over to mirror the ever-tightening grip the vampire had on his shoulder. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as his chest had started to, though.

“Karl－I told you about him－he’s only dead because he went and played hero to protect me from hunters. We always hid to sleep, but he didn’t go to ground with me that night. He said it was his turn to keep watch. I didn’t even know what happened until I came out and it smelled like a fucking bonfire and everyone was－.” Anders’ voice broke and he looked up at Fenris, brown eyes glazed in red.

As alarming as seeing someone cry can be all on its own, seeing a vampire cry is something out of nightmares, Fenris decided, as dark crimson began to drip down over Anders’ cheeks in viscous streaks.

“I’ve killed a fair amount of people since then, Fenris.” he croaked out, sniffling, “You would love staking me if you knew how many. I should have died that night, but I _didn’t_. I didn’t and I am alone. Alone in a way I never planned to be when I signed up for all this vampire shit. It didn’t exactly come with a rulebook and the ones who were supposed to be helping me navigate eternity are _gone_.” 

It was as though a dam had busted in Fenris, pouring out so much self-hatred and longing that he scrambled to rebuild it before the flood could destroy them both.

“Anders,” he tried again. Being as gentle and slow as he knew how, he reached for the other’s bloody face. Anders allowed the contact even as he swiped at his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“Andraste’s sweet ass, I’m sorry.” he said, “I never know I’m crying until it happens and then it gets _everywhere_.”

Fenris placed the hand that had been on Anders’ shoulder around his back and tugged him a little closer. It felt like a part of him was dying and he would do anything to fix it.

“That was not your fault.” he said firmly.

“Um, I’m pretty sure the city-state of Starkhaven would disagree with that. Those bastards take their parking laws very seriously and voyeurism is illegal most places.” Anders said. Fenris had noticed that he had a habit of focusing on the small things when he felt he was doing a poor job of dealing with the big ones. It was almost charming really, but mostly maddening.

“No, I meant Karl. That was not your fault.”

“Look, I shouldn’t have bothered you with this. It’s a huge mess.” Anders laughed humorlessly, fangs on full display in his distress. “I do what I have to, okay? I don’t necessarily like it, but what am I supposed to do? Give up and meet the sun? Let you kill me? I can’t. Even after Karl. . .I _can’t_.”

Fenris sighed. He was afraid it would eventually come to this, but anything was worth it if it meant mending what felt like a ragged hole in his gut by now.

“The first vampire I ever killed enslaved me for almost ten years.” he said haltingly. Anders eyes filled with so much pity he had to look down at the hand gently tracing the scars along his neck instead. 

“Danarius had everything a prospect-less elf like me could want right out of high school. Money, charisma, power, and was a frightful illusion of generosity about it all. I fell for him easily.”

Anders did not interrupt him, but he wanted to. The Anders Zone trembled with equal parts anticipation and discomfort. He was afraid of what he was to hear, but not shying away and Fenris appreciated it.

“It only took three nice dinners and one promise to provide for my mother and sister before he had me by the throat. Literally.”

“What a shitlord.” Anders murmured under his breath and Fenris smiled despite the horrors of that time threatening to resurface.

“An understatement, but I appreciate the sentiment. My time with him was not a complete oblivion of blood loss and nights I would rather forget. He taught me about vampires to some degree.” Fenris said, stretching his leg out from under him to wake it up. “With his love for control, I doubt he ever intended to teach me everything, but I learned what I could. He always threatened to bond us when I did something he did not particularly like, especially in the beginning.” 

“So _that’s_ why you didn’t really understand bonding.” Anders said in a tone that practically screamed ‘a-ha’.

“The way Danarius described it, bonding as the worst possible punishment he could inflict upon me, next to making me a vampire. A means of control that I thought I could use against you.” Fenris explained, shrugging. 

Anders’ expression was as smug as one of his cantankerous cats when they managed to land a swipe on Fenris without their master seeing.

“I now know it is not as restraining as he led me to believe. Stop looking at me like that.”

“Bonding is about mutual respect and love.” Anders quickly added at Fenris raised eyebrow, “with the right people, anyway. It should never be used how Danarius wanted to.”

“Indeed.” Fenris said. “He was very good at making me feel I was being loved in his own special way, I suppose.”

“How do you mean?” 

Fenris went quiet. He placed his hand over the one Anders’ was using to stroke the white-lined skin and his own eyes felt suspiciously wet when finally said,

“Danarius loved proving how much he owned me to others and even fancied himself something of an artist. After the first few ‘tastes’ of my blood, he never pierced me with fangs. In his own words, it was ‘too common’ for someone of his status. He cut me open and cauterized my wounds with brands when he was done feeding.” 

He pressed both of their hands into the raised flesh significantly and Anders gave a small gasp.

“He. . .gave you these?” he asked in a whisper. 

Fenris nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“Oh, Fenris, I’m so sorry. Maker, that’s awful.”

“Again, an understatement.”

Anders leaned his forehead against his and Fenris allowed himself to bask in the closeness. It was so pleasant, he was half-asleep when Anders’ next words were murmured between them.

“You don’t _have_ to give me your blood, you know. I really can get by on the bagged stuff without a problem.”

Fenris snorted through his nose, shaking his head.

“What?”

“I did not tell you about my past to put you off feeding from me, fool. I told you because, as strange as it is to admit, you are _nothing_ like Danarius.” Fenris assured him. “Save for the fangs, perhaps. You may be a vampire, but you are about as corrupt and abusive as I gather a basket of fruit to be.”

“Wow, thanks.” Anders said dryly.

Fenris gave him a bit of a headbutt. “I am trying my best to tell you that I trust you. Do not be your usual ungrateful self, for once.”

“Awww, that’s really sweet. Are we thinking a spring wedding because I’m partial to autumn, myself. Longer nights but not as cold as winter, you know?”

“All right, I’m leaving then.” Fenris said, pulling back. He could feel immediate regret tugging at him to stay and he was tempted to give in with no outward insistence, but it really was better if he made the vampire work for it.

“Wait,” Anders said, getting to his feet as Fenris started for the door. “I definitely want it if you’re willing to give it, but are you really okay? It won’t trigger anything, will it? I never paid much attention in my psychology classes, but－” 

“It will definitely trigger _something._ I remember enjoying the sensation in the early days of mine and Danarius’ relationship a shameful amount. Bad experiences thereafter notwithstanding.”

“Interesting.” Anders’ gaze traveled over him, curiously. “Be right back. Stay put.”

Fenris dropped back down onto the sofa as Anders presumably went to wash his face. Now that he really thought about it, he was so far removed from what Danarius had been, Fenris idly wondered if they really were the same species. Perhaps it was an age thing?

“Exactly how old are you?” he asked when Anders returned, face scrubbed and in a different old t-shirt.

“What kind of question is that?” Anders scoffed. When Fenris only shrugged, he said, “I was thirty-seven when I was turned, but I was made in. . .8:76 Industry, I think.”

Fenris gave a low whistle.

“What? It wasn’t _that_ long ago.”

“And yet, I keep picturing you as the ancient man you should rightfully be.” Fenris said, fighting not to laugh.

“I’ve done the math, and I would be ninety. That’s not that ‘ancient’ anymore, dick.”

“If you say so.”

“Why the sudden obsession with my age? Don’t want people assuming you’re a sugar baby?”

That made the laughter die in Fenris’ throat.

“I asked,” he said seriously, “because you do not act very old. Then again,”

He could not stop a smirk as Bendytwiggs padded over to twist herself around Anders’ ankles and meow up at him. She was a very ugly cat, Fenris thought, with a smashed face and crooked legs only Anders could love.

“‘Then again’ what?” Anders’ tone dared him as he bent to pick up his cat and stroke her ears.

“Well, you do have a lovely collection of cats and novelty coffee mugs.”

Anders pah’d and came to sit next to Fenris again, Bendytwiggs on his lap.

“Wrist or throat?” he asked.

“For?”

“Um, feeding?”

“Right. Wrist is fine.” 

Fenris’ offered one, trying to appear bored of the whole thing. Anders did not reach for it.

“Don’t lie to me. I can sort of pick that up, you know.”

“Why would I lie about where I do not mind you sinking your very sharp teeth into me?” 

“Because that isn’t where you want it.” Anders replied, matter-of-fact.

Fenris chanced a look at him and saw he had not even glanced up from petting Bendytwiggs, but the bond was alive with something Fenris was not entirely sure he wanted to put a name to yet.

“I won’t judge you, especially after what you’ve just told me.” Anders said, gently setting Bendytwiggs down. He moved so his back was against the arm of the couch, knees spread wide. “You should at least know that by now.”

“I－”

Fenris did not even have words, but it turned out he didn’t need them.

“It’s okay. Come here.” Anders purred, holding out his arms.

Fenris practically crawled into their embrace, only checking there was enough space for him to stake Anders as an afterthought, he was ashamed to realize. What was it about this idiot that made him so damned trusting and needy?

Anders nuzzled along the side of his throat, searching for the perfect spot to bite. One of his hands clamped around the back of Fenris’ neck to hold him in place when the elf flinched away from Anders’ stubble-flecked jaw, barely containing ticklish laughter.

Anders must have eventually found what he was looking for because he pressed his face against Fenris’ skin rapturously, whispering, 

“You have no idea how amazing you smell. I could get drunk on just the scent of you.”

“Stop talking and _bite me_.” Fenris growled, as impatient as the ache blooming throughout his midsection and lower still.

The sting of fangs parting flesh gave way to pleasure so quickly, Fenris forgot there had been any pain at all. Anders’ pulls at his artery were deep and accompanied by moans so erotic they would have made Isabela blush. As it was, Fenris found himself becoming less interested in the dizzying rush of the feeding and more interested in the way Anders arched underneath him, other hand gripping Fenris’ hip hard enough to leave bruises. He absently hoped it would. It would give him an excuse to give Anders a few marks of his own next time.

Fenris was truly in trouble if he was already dreaming of a next time. And a time after that. And many more times after that. Despite all the evidence of this being a great thing, a niggling little voice in the back of his mind continued to scold him. He should hate this. Best to stake Anders and wipe his hands clean of all of this. It should make him feel dirty and wrong for even considering doing it again.

Shouldn’t it?

Truth be told, all Fenris felt was harder than he’d ever been in his life. No easy feat when most of his blood was being drawn in the opposite direction.

Speaking of which, Fenris was starting to feel a little faint.

He carefully, but firmly, pulled away the hand on his neck and pressed Anders back as he sat up, dislodging the vampire’s lips from his throat and earning a hiss of discontent.

“You have to stop.” Fenris told him, bringing a hand up to press against the still-bleeding bite. “Anders, come back to me.”

It took a couple tries, but eventually, those－ _beautiful_ , Fenris thought－brown eyes focused and Anders' blank expression melted into one of dazed concern.

“Are you all right?” he asked, reaching up to cover the hand with his own.

“Well, still bleeding, but－”

“Here. No, no, come here.”

The licks he gave were sloppy, but effective, and Anders fell back looking satisfied with his work.

“I didn’t kill you.” he said dreamily.

“You did not kill me.” Fenris confirmed, unable to help a small smile at Anders’ intoxicated state. He really was not exaggerating if the heavy, relaxed feel of the Anders Zone was to be believed.

“That’s good. I like you sometimes. And you didn’t kill me.” 

“You gave me no reason to.” Fenris assured him, giving in to the urge to stroke his hair. “Which is good, since I suppose you are not such bad company either.”

Anders leaned into the touch, looking very much like one of his cats, as his eyes began to drift closed.

“There’s snacks in the kitchen for you.” he mumbled, fighting sleep.

“For me?” Fenris asked.

“I got them ‘cause you. . .you need to eat.”

 _Silly creature._ Fenris tutted to himself. It was amazing how someone could completely disregard their own health for days, but feel the need to preach to others about theirs.

“Perhaps later.”

“Nooooooooooo,” Anders whined, eyes peeling open once more. “You gotta. . .for blood stuff. It’s important.”

“Once you sleep, I will. Sound fair to you?” Fenris promised.

“Fine.” Anders huffed, rolling to curl up on his side and nearly sending Fenris off the couch as he did so. 

“Thanks, Fenris.” Anders yawned. Fenris stood carefully, wincing as he remembered his neglected erection. Praying to every deity he knew of that Anders would not notice, he drew the small, cat hair-covered blanket on the back of the couch over the vampire’s huddled form on his way to the kitchen.

“Good night, Anders.” he said quietly.

“I don’t even get a kiss? Rude.”

Fenris felt sincere hurt through the bond, but drunk hurt was not the same thing as sober hurt. Anders might not even really know what he was saying, let alone have decent impulse control.

“How about one when you are not blood dazed? It would be taking advantage of you while you are in this state.”

“You promise?”

“Sure, why not.”

 _It is unlikely he will remember asking me to make one,_ Fenris reasoned, going to see exactly what ‘snacks’ Anders insisted upon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders struggles with his feels. . .and gets a talking to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hokay, so like, I have good news, I have bad news, and I have ugly news.
> 
> The good news: New chapter that took forever to write. This is because the whole thing ended up being _41 pages long_ when I finally finished it.
> 
> The bad news: No smut in this chapter because I cut it in two. . .which brings me to my ugly news.
> 
> The ugly news: No smut in the next chapter either. Since I cut this one into two, I need a Fenris P.O.V. chapter to keep the pattern I'm setting here. So you won't actually be getting the smut (which is written and pleasant enough) until chapter **5**. If it makes you feel any better, this just means their relationship will be a bit more solid and a lot less sudden when we finally do get to the smut (a poor consolation, I know).
> 
> So sorry this thing took so long to get here and hope ya'll still enjoy it (I know I would be pissed, but I am a demanding shipper, so).

By the third month since their bonding, Anders noticed that he and Fenris had settled into something of a comfortable routine. 

On a typical night, he would wake up in the evening, head to work, get off, receive a curt text from the hunter inquiring about his shift, then spend a few hours taking care of what he could (mostly cleaning) before it was back to bed to do it all over again in twelve hours. 

The not-so-typical nights, Anders woke up to Fenris and Ser Pounce-A-Lot scowling at each other as the former brought him things only available during daylight hours. Normally, Anders would text when he needed something then pay Fenris back when he brought it. That way, Anders could just price match online and gauge about how much he had after rent and bills without having Fenris spend more than he could rightly return. 

Fenris usually hung around after a delivery, to chat or check in. One night found him commenting on Anders’ pallor with something like worry smoothing the edges of his rough voice.

“Fenris,” Anders said, as he rifled through a plastic shopping bag for the medical grade disinfectant wipes he had asked for, “I hate to be the one to break it to you, but my skin is usually white, yes. Curse of being from the Anderfels, really. Nothing I can do.”

“That is not what I mean.” Fenris grumbled, pointing to where the wipes were already sitting on the table next to him.

“I know, but it’s barely been a week. I’ve got a bag or two left in the fridge still.”

“The hospital’s supply does not come until Monday, according to you.” Fenris observed aloud. Anders had kept his eyes averted, knowing he was getting the patented ‘quit bullshitting me’ glare the elf seemed to have perfected. “The vampires I have known fed _nightly_.”

Anders ruthlessly strangled the blooming guilt before it could be noticed through the bond.

“You must have met some really self-indulgent vampires then.” he said, keeping his voice light. He moved to start wiping down the kitchen counter where one of the cats had decided spilling his mug of blood would be great fun for the whole gang, but a gloved hand on his upper arm stopped him.

“Small wonder you cannot fight back when hunters come calling. Why?”

Anders heaved a sigh. He’d honestly hoped to avoid this conversation a bit longer.

“Does it matter?” he asked. 

“Considering your line of work, I feel it does. You knowingly put others at risk.” The bond was calm, but Fenris’ tone was the definition of disapproval.

“Haven’t screwed up and bit anyone on shift yet, so I think I’m doing great, all things considered.”

“Your need to make light of poor situations is not helping your case.”

“What do you want me to say?” Anders snapped, twisting out of his grip to brave looking at him. “That I’m essentially starving myself for some nefarious greater vampire purpose? That I want you to keep giving me more until you’re a walking corpse? I _can’t_ eat every night, Fenris. It’s impossible for me to steal that much blood without somebody noticing, if they haven’t already, so drop it.”

He had gotten more upset at the line of questioning than he realized. It wasn’t as though Anders had not made a conscious choice when he decided to only feed on bagged blood and the willing, but it was far from an easy one. Sacrifices were just part and parcel of not killing to sustain himself. Irresponsible as it may seem, he had grown accustomed to it.

Pity filtered through the bond, chafing and unnecessary, before being tinged with regret.

“I did not intend－” Fenris began, expression morphing from shocked to sheepishly contrite. 

“Well, you did.” Anders cut him off, “I mean, it’s got to be nice getting to eat ‘normal’ things. Only worrying about the occasional allergy or vegan eccentric fucking up your meal, but I have to deal with mine _dying_ if I’m not careful and I’ve started to like having your stupid face around, okay?” 

Fenris eyebrows rose again at that.

“I know it’s not the best solution, Andraste’s tits, other vampires I’ve talked to think I’m crazy for it,” Anders said, annoyance dying down as he glanced over at his congealing lunch all over the counter top and floor, “but what other choices do I have? If you say death, I might just deck you on principle.”

“I will not say death,” Fenris assured him, a wry grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You still should eat more.”

“Tell you what, you come up with a way for me to do that without taking a life and I’ll make it happen for you. Sound fair?”

A thoughtful expression Anders was not sure he liked crossed Fenris’ features before he nodded.

“I will see what I can do.”

“Don’t start going through trouble for me either. People actually like and respect you as a productive member of society, remember?” Anders added, concerned.

Fenris made a disgusted noise, upper lip curling.

“As if elves are viewed as ‘productive’ outside of having children and cleaning houses for the wealthy.” he said disdainfully.

“I can’t believe no one’s doing anything about that perception these days.” Anders figured he may as well clean while they talk and began scrubbing at the counter first.

“What would you have us do? Slaughter the upper classes and take their place?”

“We had protests in my day. Lots of protests. Old people joked that we were in the Argue age instead of Industry because of how much us young people liked to protest things. Got us into some hefty trouble with the law, but we got shit done with our supposed anarchy and that’s what matters. I just don’t know why no one really protests the poor treatment of elves now, though.”

“Would _you_?”

“If most protests weren’t daytime affairs in full sun with so many witnesses to my skin roasting? Sure. Can’t really be free while they continue holding so many of us in bondage, can we?”

Fenris became so quiet that Anders had to look up just to make sure he hadn’t left.

“I. . .did not expect that from a vampire. I needed a moment.” the hunter said, looking genuinely taken aback.

“Thanks, asshole.”

“Danarius kept mostly elves in his tower to service him. I had assumed it was our low status in society which makes us such desirable targets for your kind. Should an elf go missing, it is merely one less to take a high position from a ‘more deserving’ Thedasian worker, after all.” Fenris explained, earning another confused look from Anders.

“Danarius had a tower? And took more than just you?” he asked, scratching at his stubble. Not for the first time, he regretted not shaving before Karl made him.

“Vampire clans nest together and share space, don’t they?”

“Well, sure, but a _tower_? Most of us stick to pooling our resources and buying out small neighborhoods or one good-sized house. And he was clan leader of it?”

“He was the eldest, yes.” Fenris confirmed, nodding.

“And he _wasn’t_ compensating for something? I know we don’t age, but shriveling might still happen if he’s been around awhile. I’m a nurse, I’ve seen that up close and it is a destroyer of self-confidence, my friend.”

Laughter crashed like a slow wave over Fenris and Anders had to take a moment just to watch him as his eyes screwed shut and a hand went to his mouth to try and hold in the sound. Hunching over and snorting－ _sweet Andraste, he’s fucking snorting－_ as he tried to reign it in, Fenris had never looked more adorable.

Oh no.

No no no no. _No._

_**Fuck.** _

Anders busied himself with the rest of the clean-up while Fenris regained his composure and took his leave, tossing an ‘until next time’ over his shoulder. The hunter even stopped to give Bendytwiggs an ear scratch on his way out. She swiveled her cream-colored head toward Anders in what the vampire took to be alarm, her pumpkin-orange eyes wide and unblinking. Anders could not really say he was surprised either as Fenris still insisted on calling her ‘that utter wreck of a cat’ most days.

The moment he was gone, though, Anders’ unwanted thoughts swarmed him with new info he’d really rather continue ignoring. Figures he could only really do that when the object of them was around.

Fenris could be surly to the point of antisocial, usually had way more weapons on him than was conceivably possible (or legal), and bore both the physical and emotional marks of abuse at the hands of vampires, which he had admitted to outright hating more nights than Anders could count. 

If that wasn’t just the recipe for Fenris to be the embodiment of everything Anders was not willing to deal with at the moment, he wasn’t sure what was.

Then again. . . .

Anders had never felt the breath-stealing, soul-consuming loathing Fenris so vehemently claimed to feel directed at himself. Fenris’ feelings toward Anders appeared to involve a disconcerting amount of curiosity and a gnarl or two of frustration. Once, he swore he picked up the barest trace of admiration, but it was gone so quickly Anders figured he must have imagined it.

As for what Fenris did outside of hunting? Pfft. All Anders had managed to gather was that Fenris slept in every morning. No matter how many alarms he set, he just never made it up before noon unless one of his oft-referenced ‘friends’ woke him to get food together. He made a passing mention of demon kills in the country on weekends. Apparently, that was a lucrative enough business to pay the bills and then some if one could find enough work. Kirkwall was crawling with more opportunity than Anders originally thought. 

Then there were the feedings. How could Anders possibly forget those? The moments before the bite were always the best after that first awkward night. Fenris knew exactly what he was getting when he slunk close to Anders in that vaguely threatening way he did everything and he anticipated it like an addict anticipated a fix. The steady hum of arousal through the bond added an intoxicating layer of dangerous rightness to what they were doing. It definitely didn’t spare Anders’ back from the scratches Fenris had started to leave, clawing at him as he did, at any rate. 

Anders. . .when the first hot spurt of blood hit his tongue, he had been lost. Had it really been so long since his last taste at the vein? Had he weakened so much that Fenris had no problems stopping him when he wished to continue drawing in the rich ambrosia flowing from him? The aftereffects even seemed stronger than they’d been before, in his opinion. Anders got so out of it one night that, apparently, he’d told Fenris he adored his “woodsy” eyes and how easily he could get lost in them, much to his later humiliation. Fenris was _relentless_ in his teasing, but the bond sang with unmistakable pleasure at the praise.

Anders still had to stagger the days Fenris recovered with bagged blood and going without, but he looked forward to sinking his fangs into that already scarred throat far too much to be healthy, vampire or not.

A miffed _mrrrow_ at his elbow finally pulled Anders out of his reverie and he glanced down to see Ser Pounce-A-Lot sitting primly beside him on the bed, tail twitching.

“How’s it going?” Anders asked, reaching out to pat him and getting his hand batted away. Thankfully, without claws.

 _Master, you are spending too much time with that elf._ the cat harrumphed, displeased. 

“Fenris isn’t all that bad. A bit grumpy, maybe, but－”

_He is a hunter. Hunters mean you nothing but harm. This one is making you careless._

“Oh, I see what this is.” Anders said, trying and failing not to sound like he was talking to an infant. He quickly scooped Ser Pounce up and held him so they were almost touching noses. “You’re upset that I’m not giving my special boy _all_ the attention anymore. Is that it?”

 _No._ The tabby said tersely _. That is_ not _it. Master, this is serious._

“Really? Then this won’t make things better, will it?” 

Anders set the cat in the dip created by his bent knees and stomach and began scratching behind his ears until the purring started.

 _This is not fair. I have concerns and you are distracting me._ SerPounce-A-Lot all but whined, attempting to bat at Anders’ hand again.

“Then they must not be all that important, eh, fussy whiskers?” Anders asked.

_He is right, Master._

Anders rolled his eyes at Ms. Mittens who seemed to bleed out of the shadows at the foot of the bed, her tone amused but no less beseeching.

 _He makes Master happy._ Bendytwiggs chipped in, her drawl cheerful as she nestled closer to Anders’ hip, turning her eyes up to him. _The elf feeds Master like Master feeds us._

“It’s a bit more complicated than that.” Anders told her, feeling heat creep up his neck.

 _That is the problem. You are letting your guard down and the elf goes about unchecked. What if he decides to kill you? What if he brings more hunters?_ Ser Pounce demanded, twisting onto his back to stop the onslaught on his ears.

_More hunters? Master will die. I don’t want Master to die._

“C.C., no one is dying, okay?” Anders spared a glance to make sure Captain Chokey wasn’t already chewing on something. “Pouncey, stop getting everyone into an uproar. I’m _fine_.”

_For how long? You have killed. The hunter would be within his rights to kill you and he knows this._

The question had crossed Anders’ mind more than once, he was ashamed to admit. There was no getting around the fact that Fenris still hunted. Was proud of his work killing vampires, even, and made a point of letting Anders know where he would end up if he put a toe out of line.

“As long as I respect his boundaries and don’t go killing people anymore, everything will be all right.” Anders assured them and himself.

Ser Pounce-A-Lot grumbled, but let him resume scratching behind his ears all the same.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no reason why this took so long other than life and my own realization that I really didn't have a whole bunch left to write and put off finishing it like a dork until skasha's wonderful artwork kicked me in the butt enough to do so. 
> 
> So, thank you for that. I needed it. :)
> 
> Not a lot happens, but that's okay since more stuff happens in the next chapter (I know this for a fact since it's already done so yay). 
> 
> Also, more characters have entered the stage.

“Come on, give me _something_ to work with here.”

“Isabela, not now.”

“Are they tall? Short? Have blond hair or brown? Ooh, or _red_?”

Fenris rolled his eyes as he just barely blocked one of their current marks’ punch to his stomach. 

_Let this be the last forsaken one_ , he found himself pleading, tossing the older-looking man back and driving his knife into his heart without preamble.

“You’ve been awfully distracted lately, sweetheart, so they have to be someone special. Just a tiny hint?” Isabela wheedled, heading over to strip the vampire of whatever goodies his still-twitching corpse held.

“Why is what I do in my free time suddenly of such great interest to you?” Fenris huffed, cleaning his blade off on a nearby curtain. “Even if it were some sort of intimate partner, you and I both know it cannot last.”

“Sure it could. You and whoever this mystery person is could fall completely, madly in love and put all this behind you someday, Fenris. If you want.”

He looked at her, askance.

“It could!” she insisted, holding up a solid gold watch for his inspection.

“He and I are－”

Isabela's exasperated expression faded as her features stretched into a mischievous grin.

“‘He’, is it?”

“That means nothing. You go by ‘he’ often, yourself.” he reminded her.

“Fair point.” she conceeded, shrugging.

Fenris bent to pick up the body by the collar of the shirt it wore, careful of the blood still seeping from the hole in its chest.

“We have twenty minutes until sunrise. Grab a corpse.”

*~*

“I’m just saying, why haven’t we met him yet? Are you ashamed of us? I’ll have you know that Varric and I can be quite civil when we want. Isn’t that right, Varric?”

“You tell him, Rivaini.” Varric said, grinning, but not looking up from his cards.

“It is not a matter of your civility,” Fenris sighed, throwing another bill onto the pile between them. Wicked Grace night was never dull, but always left his pockets significantly lighter than when he’d arrived. “He is not someone you would care to meet.”

“He as big of a spoilsport as you are or something?”

“Isabela, drop it.”

He could practically feel her pout, but the rest of the evening passed pleasantly enough with no more questions about Anders.

Well, almost none.

“So, have you braved this mystery person’s stormy seas yet?” Isabela slurred lasciviously as Fenris helped her to Varric’s pull-out couch and guided her to sit down on it. He slid off her work boots and plucked the empty rum bottle from her slack fingers before she could slump over with it, as she looked very close to doing.

“No.” Fenris replied, the tips of his ears burning as he set the bottle on the end table. She looked blearily up at him and clicked her tongue in disappointment.

“But you plan to, right? Please tell me you plan to, Fenny. I can’t sleep until you do.”

“Isabela, go to bed.”

“You clearly want to. It’s all over your face. Though, to be honest, it’s a bit hard to see right now.”

Fenris blew his bangs out of his eyes in frustration, grateful for Varric’s return from the kitchen with a glass of water and tablets for the headache Isabela was surely going to suffer from in the morning.

“You good to get yourself home, Broody? You know you’re always welcome to stay over too.” Varric said, urging their friend to lay down and actually tucking the sheets in around her when she complied. Not for the first time, Fenris got a very fatherly impression from the dwarf.

“It is best I leave. There is someone I have to see tomorrow.”

“Oh? Wouldn’t happen to be this mysterious stranger Bela’s been hounding you all day about, would it?”

“It might.” Fenris said, noncommittally.

Varric smiled and lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “As long as you’re having fun and not taking anyone’s shit, I can’t be too worried. Have to admit, I am kind of curious, though.”

“About?”

“What you’re trying to keep from us with this one.”

Fenris stiffened, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

“What do you mean?”

“C’mon, give me more credit.” Varric laughed under his breath. He indicated Fenris should follow him with a glance at Isabela, who appeared to already be sleeping, and a quick jerk of his head. Once they were back near the table across the room, he chanced raising his voice again.

“You are playing this really close to the chest. Don’t get me wrong, You’re not as forthcoming with your personal pursuits as Rivaini is on any given day, but you don’t usually don’t get involved past a week or two either. Neither of us can help being interested in what’s kept your attention so long.” 

Sighing, Fenris looked down at the scuffed-to-the-point-of-cracked toes of his boots to avoid meeting that knowing gaze. He really needed to consider replacing them at some point. Anders had commented on their worn heels and frayed laces enough to make him paranoid the silly ass would try to buy him a new pair. It was bad enough he had to feel sympathy through the bond whenever Anders brought them up without also having to feel he owed him something. 

It wasn’t as though Fenris lacked the means to replace them himself either. He simply didn’t look forward to breaking in new boots, especially since, like many elves, he was not particularly fond of shoes in the first place.

“He is, perhaps, the single most ridiculous person I have ever met.” Fenris said finally, not looking up.

“Really?” Varric asked.

“Barely cares for himself outside of basic self-preservation, and is about as obstinate as a sick bronto. He has four cats and hates cleaning, which is unfortunate, since they seem to enjoy making messes for his attention.”

Varric’s face was patiently attentive when Fenris glanced at him. He went on, “He. . .is something of a chatterbox.”

“Bet that thrills you, eh, Lord of Stoic Silences?”

Fenris allowed his mouth to tug up at the corners.

“I cannot tell you much more about him without his permission, but know that he is relatively harmless and my time with him is beneficial on both our ends.”

“Beneficial in the Isabela sense or. . .?”

“Yes, ‘or’.” Fenris smacked the little voice at the back of his mind that insisted it was both. The feedings felt wonderful, true, but discussing them with Varric or Isabela was out of the question for the time being. Gods help him if he even pretended sex was happening as just a cover. Isabela would never let it go. She would demand details. _All_ of them. Nevermind that she scoffed at the very idea of being fed from as a pleasurable or consensual act.

After her experience, however, Fenris couldn’t really blame her.

Before he could get started down that dark line of thinking, Varric’s voice brought him back to the subject at hand.

“What?”

“I said, am I going to have to start drafting a novel for you two? Romances aren’t my strong point, but I’ll always make the effort for a friend.” he chuckled, sweeping Fenris’ winnings towards him as he began clearing the table of the cards and empty bottles.

Fenris made a face.

“It is not what you are thinking.” he assured him.

“You should bring him to play Wicked Grace, at least. What with Aveline and Donnic taking longer shifts, we don’t have as many players to make it a challenge anymore.”

“You mean, you don’t have as many players to rob blind anymore.”

“I admit to nothing.”

“He doesn’t. . .” Fenris wasn’t entirely sure why he felt the need to make excuses. While Anders kept largely to himself, it did not seem to him that the vampire was _against_ socializing. On the contrary, he seemed as though more non-feline acquaintances to interact with would do him some good. Fenris knew that he would not be able to keep the fact that they were bonded a secret for long. It was only a matter of time if Varric and Isabela were already questioning him about the situation. Aside from wanting to avoid the teasing and meddling that introducing Anders to his friends would certainly bring, Fenris did not relish the idea of sharing him with anyone just yet. Vampire or no, the elf found he had become slightly possessive, much to his disgust. Having to actually _feel_ Anders be fond of someone the way he was sometimes fond of Fenris made him want to claw his own heart out for reasons he would much rather avoid looking at too closely.

“He works nights.” he said instead, collecting what little money he’d managed to snatch back from his friends and helping to carry trash to the bin near the kitchen.

“Not in the business, is he?” Varric asked, tone casual.

“No, he works at a hospital.”

“Andraste’s Mercy?”

Fenris hesitated in his response, leveling a suspecting glare down at Varric.

“Perhaps.” he said.

“I’m only asking for writing material.”

“ _Varric_.”

“Just kidding, Broody. Go get some sleep.”

*~*

“I do believe I was promised a kiss at some point.”

Fenris froze, hands resting on Anders’ hips where they hovered over his lap. Having first gotten Fenris’ permission to take such a dominating position, the vampire had straddled him to feed, but paused just before biting to whisper into one of Fenris’ ears.

“I. . .” Fenris sputtered, heart rate picking up.

“I don’t plan on holding you to it,” Anders laughed, pulling back to look at him with eyes that reminded Fenris of something he had not seen in years, but he could not put his finger on _what_. “Didn’t want you thinking I forgot about it, though. The blood doesn’t make me a _complete_ fool, after all.”

At the elf’s pointed look, he added, guiltily, “All right, so I only remembered this morning, but it still counts.”

“But you did not remember waxing poetic about my eyes? I’m hurt.” 

“Hush, you.” The Anders Zone burned with embarrassment and Fenris reveled in it.

Instead of retorting, he rocked forward to brush his mouth over Anders’ cheek, his bottom lip catching on the stubble creeping up toward his hairline. It was pleasantly rough as always due to its short trim, but it sent an unexpected rush of want through Fenris. His lips had always been a bit on the sensitive side, but he found himself lingering on the spot, flesh tingling. With the very slight way Anders pressed into the contact and the flare of excitement within the bond, Fenris was loathe to settle back against the couch. The pleasure he received from seeing the vampire speechless when he did, however, made up for it. Barely.

“I did promise, after all.” Fenris said, unable to keep himself from grinning.

“You didn’t have to－” Anders started to say.

“I _wanted_ to.” Fenris stressed. “Kisses are not something I get to indulge in that often and Danarius was never one for them so they are. . .safe.”

Anders regarded him with suspicion, the tips of his fangs already protruding from between his lips. Blood pounded in Fenris’ ears at the mere sight. 

Anders shrugged a shoulder as if to say ‘have it your way’ before giving Fenris’ shoulders a squeeze and ducking just under his jaw. It was higher than he normally went for and the hunter might have protested the conspicuous location if he wasn’t so frightfully eager just to have Anders’ teeth in him again.

Fenris tensed for the bite, already aching for the endorphins it brought, but Anders only placed his mouth there a moment. He did so again directly below the spot, then again, and once more before Fenris realized what exactly he was doing.

The gentle presses of warm lips with the teasing hardness of sharp canines just beneath drew anticipatory shivers from the elf, much to Fenris’ embarrassment, and he just barely cut off a moan when Anders finally arrived at his preferred spot and sunk his fangs in without hesitation.

Fenris still was not certain why such an unnatural and bloody act felt so mind-meltingly good, but as his brain sent a volley of feel-good chemicals through his shaking body, he really couldn’t care less about the _why_ of it. He shoved Anders down to sit fully on his lap and tugged him closer, hands skittering desperately up a well-muscled back to tangle in red-blond locks and hold him to his throat.

Anders grunted at the rough treatment but did not stop feeding, his own pleased sounds drawing a glare from Ser Pounce-A-Lot on the coffee table across from them, Fenris noted only somewhat smugly. Not for the first time, arousal made itself a happy home in the cradle of his hips and, from what little he could discern through the bond at the moment, Anders was no less affected. Fenris was only half-concerned when hips began to roll against his own, but the moment he started to feel weak, he swore, not ready for it to be over.

“Anders.” he gasped, surprised at how wrecked he sounded even to himself. The vampire’s name really was the best way he knew to get his attention, but Anders ignored it, taking two more pulls of blood.

“Anders,” Fenris tried again. He used the fistful of very soft hair he still clung to pry Anders off him, earning a bestial growl for his trouble.

“I know, but I am not a limitless supply.” Fenris explained, looking into Anders’ hungry eyes and fighting down the sudden nausea from the memories they brought howling back. “You have to stop now.”

Slowly, Anders came around and healed the bite in his usual sheepish fashion, thanking Fenris and moving to get up. The hunter stopped him.

“Wha－?” 

“You should not be moving around when the blood hits you. You are already feeling the effects.”

“That’s true.” Anders admitted, swaying a little. “I have something to do, though, so leggo.”

“What sort of something?”

“Just. . .something. Don’t worry about it.”

“Vampire.”

“Ugh, let’s just say that feeding affects me in more ways than one if I get really into it and leave it at that.” Anders said, trying once more to crawl off of Fenris and nearly falling off instead.

“It does not bother me, if that is what you fear.” Fenris said as he caught him.

Confusion making an attractive home on his face, Anders just stared at him. Fenris might even have found it funny if the situation wasn’t quite so odd.

“Really?” Anders asked, settling back into place. 

“Really really.” Fenris replied.

“I don’t want to impose. Besides, it’s my problem.” Anders sighed. “I really should have more control by now.”

“You have not killed me.” Fenris reminded him, giving into the urge to stroke Anders’ side with his gloved knuckles. What _was_ it about feeding that made him so touchy-feely? Did his brain just turn to defenseless mush after being fed on in the traditional manner? It certainly felt that way. Fenris just wished his cock would would follow suit with the rest of him.

“You sound almost proud of me.” Anders said, smiling crookedly and leaning into Fenris more as the blood infused his system. “Not the blood-thirsty, baby-killing, scion of all evil you thought me to be, am I?”

 _Finally._ Fenris thought as his body got with the program at the mere thought of such a terrifying notion. _That was starting to hurt._

“Perhaps not, but why take the chance you might be? Besides, I have heard that bonding is not something that is easily undone.”

The Anders Zone suddenly felt as raw as if it had been sliced open and Fenris winced before he could stop himself.

“It isn’t.” Anders confirmed, voice low.

Knowing there was a story there, but being much too cowardly to hear it lest he start feeling even more sympathetic for the vampire in his lap, Fenris eyed Ser Pounce-A-Lot over Anders’ shoulder.

“Your furry guardian looks as if he might actually eat me should I even contemplate doing harm to your person, in any case.” he said, mock resigned. “I suppose I am stuck with you for now.”

“I don’t see why he wouldn’t just because. I mean, _I_ enjoy eating you, even if you are a bit on the spicy side.” Anders said, expression casual enough to make Fenris think he was joking at first. When he realized the other was being totally serious, however, his heart skipped a beat. Panicking a little, he bucked Anders off onto the couch, mind abuzz with the dangers of ‘ridiculous, flirting, blood-addled vampires’. 

He tossed a cat hair-covered pillow into Anders’ face when said blood-addled vampire started to giggle at his obvious retreat.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kay, so ya'll got lucky because I was like, ( ) close to cutting this chapter in half again and saying to hell with my pattern. xD I think I've made ya'll wait long enough though. Enjoy and please read the notes at the end when you're done.

Anders was more than a little paranoid when Fenris texted to meet him at the all-night diner across the street from the hospital when he got off. Surely he could just text if he had to tell him something or wait until he was home? It wasn’t like Anders could eat the food so some weird kind of date was completely out of the question, but his stomach fluttered anyway. The irritated jumpiness he felt from the other side of the bond did nothing to comfort him. 

Standing outside of the generic little restaurant in his scrubs and sneakers after his shift, Anders debated texting to demand an explanation or just going home. It wasn’t as though Fenris owned him. Anders could do whatever he liked, within reason. Ser Pounce’s words drifted back to him and Anders shook himself, unable to believe he was letting his cat get to him. Of all the things wrong with this situation, that had to be the worst.

Sucking in a breath, Anders pushed open the door, wincing at the clanging of the bell affixed to the top, and scanned the sparsely occupied booths and tables for a familiar mop of white hair. 

Fenris was near the back, green gaze raising from his phone to pin Anders in place in the entryway.

Anders gave a small wave, uncertain.

Fenris’ smile was strained as he gestured him over.

“What’s all this then?” Anders asked, coming to stand next to him. Lowering his voice, he added, “Sunrise is in less than two hours and I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what happens if _this_ abused stepchild is caught out after bedtime.”

“Sit down. Smile and pretend to talk to me.” the hunter said through his teeth.

“Have you finally lost it? I have to get home, you－”

“Do as I say. We are being watched.”

Anders’ cutting response died on its way up his throat and his own anxiety mingled with Fenris’ dread in his belly. He slid in across from the hunter, for once not arguing the point. 

“Who would want to watch _us_? We don’t even get naked and start pillow fights with each other.” he asked, turning his head to look, but Fenris caught his face in one of his hands to keep him from doing so. The worn leather of his glove warmed Anders’ cheek and he may have nuzzled into it a bit.

“You sound like you lament the fact we don’t.” he said. He raised an eyebrow and glanced pointedly at Anders’ mouth.

Anders took the hint and schooled his own face into an easy grin.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything. What’s a naked tussle in pillows between friends? Up for a round some time?”

“No.”

As Fenris slowly let his hand rest on the table next to his phone again, Anders found himself wishing it would have stayed longer, if only for the comfort of physical contact. Being bonded always made him little more than a spoiled child when it came to touch. He _needed_ it or he started to itch. 

Karl had found it cute. Anders put the brakes on how Fenris might find it before it could go anywhere too interesting. He was the one who had warned Fenris off, so how would it look for _him_ to start simpering and cozying up to the other? Best to try and maintain what distance remained between them, even if a “pillow fight” _did_ sound really good about now. 

A much-too-chipper-for-the-time-of-day waitress came by to get their drink orders, nodded when they declined, and bustled off again, but not before looking between the pair of them with interest. Fenris ignored it, but Anders wondered how they must look to outsiders.

Probably like a starving man in scrubs and a delinquent elf that wasn’t just decades, but _centuries_ out of said starving man’s league.

“Why did you want me to meet you here if there are scary people following you?” he asked, adopting an overly pleasant tone. He rested his chin on his fist, hoping the other would not notice his shaking. 

Fenris snorted and flashed a genuine smile his way. “They are not interested in me so much as you. I realized their intent and decided you would prefer to be accosted here than at your home. You have nothing to fear yet since they do not know your true nature. Pretend to look at the menu.” He slid a laminated sheet toward him, making a face when it stuck to his glove.

“Syrup, I’d wager.” Anders said, tugging it free of him. “Always seems to get everywhere in these sorts of dives. What the Void do you mean, ‘yet’?”

“They will assess you first. See if you are, in their words, ‘good enough’.” Fenris explained, opting to strip the glove off and sticking his hand in his coat pocket instead, but not before Anders noticed more scars on the back of it.

Anders let the menu drop back onto the table to level an impatient stare at the hunter, paying no mind to Fenris’ wide-eyed look directed above him.

“‘Good enough’ for _what_?” he demanded.

“Trouble in paradise already? We just got to the show.” an amused voice said over his shoulder.

Anders whipped his head up and got a faceful of breasts for his trouble. Not that he was complaining, but, sweet Maker, they were big. The person they were attached to gave a roguish chuckle that made them shake and leaned over so Anders’ could see an equally, if not more so, gorgeous brown face smiling down at him.

“Oh, this one _is_ cute. . .in a lost puppy way. Big eyes, scruffy, and looking like he’ll come up to anyone who promises him a nice treat.” she said, golden eyes twinkling down at Anders. Her smooth tones slid over him like honey, sounding somehow both impressed and disappointed.

“Isabela,” Fenris’ growled a warning.

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to take him from you. Though, he does look halfway mine already. Wouldn’t you say so, Varric?” 

A new voice at Anders’ shoulder spoke then, “I don’t know, Rivaini. He actually looks pretty pale. You sure you’re not confusing ‘scared shitless of you’ for ‘panting after you’?”

“The two intersect enough that I don’t usually notice a difference between them. Mind being a good boy and scooting down a bit, sweet thing?”

Anders slowly complied, shooting helpless glances at Fenris as he made room for the woman to slide into the booth beside him, effectively blocking him in. Fenris moved down as well so that a dwarf with skin tanner than Anders had ever seen on the mostly subterranean people and an almost indecent amount of chest hair on display could sit beside him, resting what looked to be some sort of black instrument case upright on the floor next to him. 

_A vampire, an elf, and a dwarf walk into a diner. . ._ Anders began in his head, peeking at the ever-lightening horizon beyond the window blinds. 

“So, _you’re_ the one that’s got our Fenris twisted into all sorts of adorable little knots lately?” the woman asked, lacing her fingers together in front of her and nudging Anders’ shoulder with her own.

“I. . .”

He chanced a quick look at Fenris, who was resolutely staring down at the menu in front of him as though he hoped everyone would forget he was present at all.

Unable to keep from smirking, Anders decided a little payback was in order. 

“To tell the truth, _he’s_ been the one tying me up.” he half-lied, “Bit of a wild one in the bedroom.” 

Fenris’ gaze snapped up to his, unguarded shock adding something vulnerable and oddly precious to him, Anders had to admit.

“Been a while since I’ve had anyone to do that for me,” the woman laughed, “think I could join you two next time?”

“Varric, is this really necessary?” Fenris asked the chuckling dwarf, deftly reaching over to swat her with the menu, his cheeks tinting a even deeper russet.

“‘fraid so, Broody. You know how she gets when you try and keep this kind of stuff from her and I’m just along to keep property and personal damage to a minimum. Name’s Varric Tethras.” he replied, giving Anders a little salute.

“Oh, um, Anders. Just Anders.”

“And I’m Isabela. Never _just_ anything.We work with Fenris on jobs sometimes, but I’m sure he’s told you all about us.”

“Actually－” Anders began. 

“Wonderful, you all know each other properly now. Leave.” Fenris said, not looking up from fiddling with a stray sugar packet. Anders felt a hopeful kind of relief from him and had to keep from snickering despite the building panic in his chest. _More_ hunters? Great.

“So Anders,” Isabela began, ignoring her friend’s comment completely and earning herself a glare, “you work at the hospital then?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” he sighed, always up for complaining about work even if it meant being stuck in a tacky diner until sundown. Good thing this one was small enough to rely mostly on artificial lights and kept the blinds down, even on sunny days, to keep customer complaints to a minimum. “The patients aren’t a problem usually, but our floor is all over the place on their paperwork and hours. I’m lucky to have such a stable shift, but it’s only because most opt out of working nights when they have children.” 

“Perform any brain surgeries?”

“Oh no, I’m not a surgeon. More like their nanny, really. I’m a registered nurse.”

“I had an auntie who did that. Said the worst part was all the _fluids_.” Isabela’s nose scrunched in disgust, making Varric laugh.

“People certainly have a lot of those that like to come out when they’re sick, yes.”

Weary from his shift and the impromptu interrogation, Anders covertly moved his sneakered foot to nudge against Fenris’ boot under the table, hoping the small touch would be enough to get him through the rest of it.

“So, why did you choose to work nights then?” Varric asked, sly voice curious. Honestly, why did Fenris have to have such attractive friends?

“Excuse me?” Anders almost squeaked. 

“You said _most_ nurses like to avoid nights if they have kids. Do you have some mini versions of yourself running around? Bet they’re a precious bunch.” Isabela said, eyeing Anders as though trying to get an image of what his hypothetical spawn might look like.

“Ah, no. No, I’m only a decent _temporary_ parent: Responsible enough for other people’s kids when they’re in my care, but I fully expect their real parents to take them when they have to leave it. Besides, I can’t actually make any of my own. One hundred percent sterile, you know.”

Their faces dropped so quickly, it was as if Anders had admitted to strangling kittens in his free time. 

“Oh. . .I’m－I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to－”

“Don’t be. I accepted it a long time ago.” He waved it off, not missing the way Fenris’ brows had lifted at the admission.

“We should probably order something before Rena throws us all out. I’m starving. What about you, Varric?” Isabela said, ears a little darker as she quickly changed the subject.

“Eggs sound nice, but you’ve gotta watch who cooks them here. Kilan always manages to char them somehow.”

“Not hungry.” Anders lied, avoiding looking at Fenris. He knew he would lose it if the ornery asshole started trying to lecture him again, no matter how subtle he was about it in their present company. The elf was just going to have to get used to disappointment. 

“You sure, Blondie? No offense, but you look like death warmed over.” Varric’s whiskey-hued eyes reflected only friendly concern as they flicked over him across the table.

“It was a really harrowing shift.” Anders replied, pressing his foot slightly harder against Fenris’.

“I did not think you two would do more than watch this morning.” Fenris’ press back was more reassuring than Anders’ felt it had any right to be. 

“When we followed you out of that compound, we were just surprised to see you heading here so early. Small wonder I have to drag you out of bed every other morning. Do you _ever_ sleep?” Isabela gave him an incredulous look.

“Then you admit to following me?” Fenris asked.

“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t landing yourself in deep trouble, snarly. Don’t get your dark blue undies in a twist.”

To Anders’ amazement, Fenris smiled and said, 

“They are not dark blue today.”

“Dammit.” Isabela swore, thumping her fist on the table and gaining a few baleful looks from the other diners.

“I’m sorry? Have I missed something?” Anders prompted.

“It’s a game of theirs,” Varric said, shaking his head. “Rivaini here tries to guess what color Broody’s unmentionables are. If she gets it wrong, nothing happens. If she gets it right－”

“I get a peek at what’s in them.” Isabela finished, giving him a saucy wink.

“Oh.” Anders wasn’t sure what he expected, but it hadn’t been that.

“I suppose if you two are serious about each other, though, that bit of fun needs to come to an end?” 

Bottom lip stuck out and her slim brows raised, she looked at Anders with unmistakable hope in her eyes.

“You are. . .really terrible at asking permission for things you’re not sure you’re allowed.” Anders couldn’t help but laugh. It reminded him of himself, if he was being honest.

“Hey, I’m just trying to get a feel for you. It’s not easy when our dear friend and colleague won’t spill anything about you to us.” Isabela said, crossing her arms and sticking her tongue out at Fenris, who only shrugged, unaffected.

“It is not my place to ‘spill’ anything.” he said, gaze meandering to Anders significantly.

Anders found he was grateful just as much as he was surprised. The elf had not ratted him out. Was trying to protect him even in the current awful moment where they were stuck in a booth with two hunters who would not be nearly as forgiving of his “sins”, he was sure.

He tamped down his gratitude before he did something completely stupid like lean across the table, grab Fenris’ face, and smooch him until they passed out from lack of air. 

Or offer to rock his pointy-eared world the moment they were alone. 

That would certainly be. . .something. Then again, Fenris was the reason Anders was in this situation to begin with.

Feeling conflicted, he forced his attention back to Isabela and Varric, who were debating the merits of a well-grilled slice of ham.

*~*

Anders slammed his door open so hard, it bounced back and nearly smacked Fenris in the nose as the elf trailed after him into the apartment. The cats scattered, all except Ser Pounce-A-Lot, who merely glared at Fenris.

 _What has he done to you? You never stay out so late._ he demanded in a manner more befitting of an overprotective father than a rescued stray.

“Not now, Pouncey.” Anders said from under the gray blanket Fenris had loaned him.

Isabela and Varric had finally left just before noon, curiosity satisfied. . .for the moment. 

Isabela had tossed, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.” over her shoulder at them. Her smile was suggestive and her lingering touch on Anders’ arm had been even more so. Varric just rolled his eyes and told Anders that he was welcome to play cards with them whenever he could manage to get away from work and that he would happily give him a ride if Fenris was being ‘difficult’ about it. 

As pleasantly nerve-wracking as the meeting had been, it left Anders with the task of waiting until dark to leave the diner. Or at least he’d thought as much, until Fenris went out to his truck once his friends were gone and had brought him a thick shock blanket to cover his exposed face and arms with and had offered to drive him home. 

Tossing the blanket over the back of his couch when Fenris closed the door behind him, Anders’ let out a breath he felt he’d been holding all morning.

“I can’t believe this.” he said, going to the fridge and pulling out a pack of blood to warm up.

“What can you not believe? That my friends took an honest interest in exactly who I was spending so much free time with?” Fenris asked, keeping his distance. That only made Anders more antsy, which actually pissed him off.

“You could have warned me.” Anders grumbled. He was shaking so badly he didn’t even bother with a cup but stuck the bag into the microwave, punching in a number he hoped would not cause it to explode.

“From the moment I suggested the bond, I knew we would have to eventually introduce you.” Fenris said. He sighed and rested his arms on the pass-through window’s counter top, tapping it pensively. “I did hope it would be later rather than sooner, if that consoles you any.”

“If wishes were griffons, the wardens would ride again.” Anders recited, rolling his eyes.

“Nevermind there has not been a need for wardens in over five hundred years.”

“Well, there’s no such things as mages anymore either, but that doesn’t stop people from trying to cast and summon things, now does it, smart-ass?” 

“You are upset with _me_?” Fenris sounded surprised.

“What was your first clue?”

“And _I_ am the smart-ass?”

“Dammit Fenris,” Anders whined, ignoring the beep of his blood for the moment to round on the other, planting his hands on either side of Fenris’, “can you at least not act like your friends _won’t_ string me up for the sun the moment they find out what I am?”

Fenris’ eyes widened considerably before narrowing in confusion. He seemed to look inward when Anders’ face offered him nothing and he knew the bastard was checking the bond, a habit he had developed when Anders was being ‘obscure’.

“Stop that.” Anders said, turning away.

“You fear them. Why?” Fenris had the gall to be amused if what Anders was feeling could be trusted and, damn him, he knew it could.

“Golly gee, I sure don’t know. Maybe because they are vampire hunters whose very way of life depends on me biting the big one on their pointy sticks?”

The snort that met his words nearly had him punching Fenris in the face.

“You are relatively harmless.” he said simply, “Isabela has picked up on that much, I am certain. Varric is glad to finally have, pardon my phrasing, new blood to drag to Wicked Grace Night. Neither have given you reason to be afraid and both of them appear to like you.”

“Until they know.” Anders pointed out. “What about when they learn about the feeding? The bond? Bet their tones change when we reveal that news.” 

Anders got his blood out, felt a chilly spot on the bag, made a face, and stuck it right back in. He just wanted to eat and sleep for a few hours before his shift started. Was that really so much to ask for?

“We do not have to if it worries you what they will think.”

It was Anders’ turn to snort.

“Oh sure, let’s _not_ tell two vampire hunters that Anders is a vampire. Like they couldn’t just figure it out on their own? They’ll think I tricked you into being my thrall or something. Does that really make any sense to you? Do you hear even yourself?”

“My hearing is excellent and yes. I bonded with you to watch you more closely. While they may not like it, they will see the sense in it once I explain what you did for me. The feeding _I_ allow. . .because I enjoy it and they may not care for that either, but they will respect it because they respect me. Mostly, as far as Isabela is concerned.”

Anders slowly looked around at him, teeth worrying his bottom lip. Fenris’ face held not a single hint of shame, but the bond was a tangle of emotions Anders could not begin to distinguish from each other.

“Good to know you don’t feel like I’m using you or anything.” he said.

“I have been at the mercy of users, Anders. You are not one of them.” Fenris told him earnestly. His voice dropped to an octave that made Anders’ ribs vibrate in his chest. “Besides, how do you know I am not the one using you?”

The beep of the microwave had Anders jumping and he spun to get his dinner out, stomach doing somersaults. Despite his earlier thoughts at the diner, Fenris actually was the _worst_ person to get involved with. Things were already complicated enough between them without the trouble sleeping together could bring, no matter how appealing the idea sounded.

Nothing like watching Anders suck down A- to viciously kill whatever mood had arisen, he reasoned.

When he tore the bag open with his teeth, however, Fenris seemed to approve and watched him until he had drained it.

“You’re not hurrying out of here in disgust?” Anders asked, running his tongue over his teeth.

“Why should I? You are eating. That is important, since you insist on seldom doing so.” Fenris sniffed, glancing down around his ankles. Anders’ cats had a way of attacking him when he least expected, so the vampire could not really blame him.

“Excuse me, but I do not ‘insist’ on anything, elfy. We talked about this, remember?” 

“I could talk to Varric for you.”

“What can he do about it?” Anders asked, ripping open the bag to lick the inside clean.

“What with his family being involved in so much trade, Varric has picked up quite the collection of contacts. No doubt, one of them has a hand in blood banks or knows someone who－who does.”

Anders hummed, only half-listening, tongue lapping at the thick plastic rapturously. It paled in comparison to fresh, but to a starving vampire even animal blood would slake the thirst for a time.

A firm grip on his wrist broke the mild trance and Anders opened his eyes, not remembering having closed them, to see wild, forest-green ones burning into them not two inches away.

“Can I help you?” he asked, tugging to try and bring the bag back up to his mouth for a couple more swipes, but Fenris would not budge.

“There is none left, vampire, open another or stop being so obscene.” The cute nose wrinkles were back, Anders noted with no small amount of pleasure.

“‘Obscene’? Says the elf who chose to stay and _watch_ me feed when he’s not even participating.” he said, somewhat nervous. His pulse had quickened with the touch, but having Fenris so near made his needy self downright giddy.

“That is not the point.” Fenris said, gaze traveling down to fix on his mouth.

“And what is ‘the point’, oh wise vampire slayer?”

Instead of answering, he captured Anders’ lips with his own, pulling him flush against him.

Out of pure shock, Anders dropped the remains of the bag and clung to Fenris’ shoulder for support. His lips were far softer than his cutting tongue would allow anyone to believe, coaxing Anders into opening his mouth for him to slide said tongue right between his incisors. A firm suck on it earned Anders a positively filthy moan that spurred his blood on its merry way south.

The press of that slick appendage against his own tongue and hard palate got Anders thinking about another slick appendage he’d love having Fenris push into him and he shoved him back a few inches, breaking the kiss.

“We can’t do this.” he gasped out, mortified at how breathy his voice had become. His heart had started to pound against his sternum and Anders felt an answering pulse between his legs already.

Fenris looked to be in a similar state. Lips swollen and face beautifully flushed, confusion settled over his features once more.

“Why not?” he panted.

“Maker’s breath, what do you mean ‘why not’? I told you why the night I met you. Don’t. Be. Weird. It’s bad enough Isabela and Varric think we’re involved as it is.”

“Pfft. You said not to fall in love with you and I have not.”

“Fallen in lust with me, then?” Anders asked, raising an eyebrow.

Fenris merely shrugged. 

“You cannot say that does not happen.” he replied.

Anders tried to put more mind-clearing distance between them, but Fenris clung to his waist. 

“I do not enjoy being so out of control around you, just so you are aware.” he sighed. “Between the bond and the feedings, I simply－”

“Can’t resist?” Anders asked, a bit of pride welling in his chest.

Fenris rolled his eyes. 

“Says the one who wants me to tie him up.” he said dryly.

“Oh, that was just a joke.” Anders replied, reigning in his disappointment. “Mostly.”

The elf’s skeptical expression turned thoughtful. “I don’t usually－my previous affairs were temporary and never quite so involved. Not after. . .”

Pride made way for concern. “Danarius?” Anders asked quietly.

Anger suffused the bond, and Anders could freely admit that it wasn’t all Fenris’.

“You’re under no obligation to give me details,” Anders said, holding up his hands in front of him to ward them off before Fenris could start, “but he seemed the type to have. . .just taken what he wanted, from what you’ve told me.”

“He was, he did, and he is dead.” 

Fenris said the last word with so much satisfaction Anders had to admit he longed to know exactly how that had gone down. Perhaps he would ask for the tale, one day, when he was not canoodling in his tiny kitchen with an elf he had absolutely no－alright, maybe a little－business canoodling with.

As though reading his mind, or the bond at the very least, Fenris said,

“At any rate, he has little to do with whatever is between us other than you believing my time with him has left me damaged in some way.”

“Not damaged, per se,” Anders was quick to reassure, resting his palms against Fenris’ chest in what he hoped was a placating manner. “I just don’t want to screw up and hurt you like that.”

“I am not that delicate.” Fenris snarled, a poor cover for hurt the very idea inflicted, Anders felt. It made him flinch in sympathy and he nuzzled against his favorite biting spot, knowing how much it calmed Fenris just having him there.

“Perhaps not, but why torture yourself? I may not be Danarius, but a lot of the things you enjoy about me can be traced back to him. I’m certain of that, at least.”

Fenris opened his mouth to say something, closed it, swallowed, and opened it again.

“Danarius is dead.” he repeated as though to remind himself of the fact, “I refuse to allow his memory dictate what I do for the rest of my life, difficult as I sometimes find it. It is not torture if I enjoy something, no matter how I have come to enjoy it.” 

A tendril of anticipation probed the bond. Fenris’ grip tightened on him.

“I will admit, I am. . . interested in how you would look underneath me, perhaps with your teeth in me while I am in you.” he murmured against Anders’ hair. 

As much desire as those words sent coursing through him, Anders could not quite shake the voice warning him of impending disaster. 

“What if. . .what if _I’m_ afraid of what this might lead to?” he asked in a small voice.

Fenris pulled back to look at him properly, expression bemused.

With a sigh, Anders slid from his arms and rubbed the upper parts of his own nervously.

“Bad things always seem to happen to the people I care for. My mother, Karl, Hawke. Thankfully, Hawke’s still alive, but only because I had the good sense to leave her first.”

“A veritable trail of bodies to match the one left by your perverse appetite.” Fenris remarked, sarcasm thick in his tone.

“I’ve killed way more than that, true, but these ones. . .they mattered to me.” Anders admitted, feeling his eyes and nose prickle. “No offense, but I really don’t think I could handle the idea of you mattering like them. It’s bad enough we’re bonded.”

“Given your partiality to my, and I quote, ‘stupid face’, I would say I already matter to you. An interesting development considering I am ‘not your type’.”

Anders choked back a laugh, but did not move away when Fenris stepped closer. The elf kept his hands to himself, but his eyes scanned Anders, ear tip twitching much to the vampire’s subdued delight.

“I do not know how to feel about you, personally.” Fenris finally said. “You are all I have come to despise and hunt, yet choose to heal rather than harm. A noble cause, if ultimately futile for one of your species.”

“You really are a master of seduction, Fenris.” Anders said disparagingly. “Truly a paragon of－.”

Green eyes rolled heavenward. “I am trying to say, while it is ultimately up to you what happens next, sex would be for my physical enjoyment and would not, necessarily, convince me to add you to my list of favorite people.”

“That. . .has to be a very short list.”

“It is.” Fenris confirmed solemnly.

Anders considered the idea with rapidly dwindling reservation. It was not as though he was incapable of separating the emotional from the physical. Far from it. Anders had participated in so many orgies and anonymous sexual favors when he was human, it was a miracle he hadn’t succumbed to some horrible disease before he met Karl. Casual sex had helped him through some rather rough times, even got him a bit extra when he was short on rent prior to his change. After becoming a vampire, it really hadn’t changed too drastically. Karl had had a thing for watching Anders with others, and it was a kink they’d indulged in enough to have several of their clanmates request something more serious with the pair of them, which they had both declined.

Looking over Fenris, standing expectantly on his fake-marble tile, Anders could not deny the appeal. Aside from this being the only real thing the hunter had asked of him since bonding, he found himself desperately wanting those hands back on him. His wrist, his hair, maybe even holding him down or smacking him until he was too sore for any touch, gentle or not. 

If at least one of them was being responsible, surely things would not get _too_ out of hand, feelings-wise.

“You won’t, ah, won’t get attached? ‘Cause that would be bad.”

The crooked grin Fenris gave him made his heart skip. “I assure you, I am more than capable of maintaining a respectable distance. I cannot promise I will not sometimes want to kill you instead of fuck you, but you should be safe in terms of romance, vampire.”

So, if Anders got hurt later, he only had himself to blame. 

To the Void with him, then.

“Yes.” The word came out a whisper.

“Yes?” 

“Andraste’s sculpted ass, _yes_.”

For such a slender thing, Fenris was frighteningly strong. He had Anders in his arms and was halfway down the hall before the vampire could blink. It was just lucky he wrapped his legs around his waist on instinct before they both toppled to the floor, unbalanced.

“Eager much?” Anders asked, heart beating a staccato rhythm in his chest even as he tried to keep his tone light.

In response, Fenris crashed their mouths together, nearly nicking himself on the fangs that had not yet retracted in his haste.

“Is the apartment on fire? There’s no rush, Fenris.”

“I fear I will come to my senses before this goes anywhere.” Fenris panted against his lips, brow furrowed. His kisses became more heated, stealing what was left of Anders’ breath, before he was finally pressed down onto the bed. He hadn’t even noticed Fenris opening the door to his room.

“I have the perfect solution for rational thinking that won’t quit.” Anders grinned up at him. Flipping them so he was on top, he slid down Fenris’ body to lay between his legs, deft fingers working at the fastenings of his pants.

“What are you up to?” Fenris’ tone was amused, but a spike of fear in the bond had Anders rubbing the jean-clad thighs on either side of him.

“Something nice for you, but only if you want it.”

He waited patiently as the elf deliberated with himself, massaging the muscles in his legs and almost drooling over how taut they were. Fenris could give him the ride of his life and he would certainly let him. . .later.

“Let me see what you can do then.” he finally relented with a nod, sitting up to remove his jacket.

Grinning from ear-to-ear, Anders unzipped Fenris’ pants the rest of the way and tugged them down a little, squeaking when he got whomped in the face by the very erect member that sprang free.

Fenris’ cut-off laughter above him made him glare at the vampire hunter.

“You could have warned me.” he said, smacking his hip indignantly.

“I did not think you would already have your face so close. Now who is eager?”

Anders opened his mouth to retaliate, but a sudden realization made him stop.

“You’re not wearing underwear.”

“Mhm.” 

“Is that a _common_ wardrobe choice for you?”

“Isabela’s guessing pattern certainly suffers for it, so I would say so.” Fenris admitted with a casual shrug.

“You filthy cheat.” Anders said, impressed.

“She would not want it any other way, believe me. You will tell her nothing.”

“I don’t know,” Anders dragged out, playfully, “I have a pretty loose mouth when it comes to juicy tidbits like that.”

“I suggest,” Fenris said, slowly tangling his hand in Anders’ hair before tightening his grip and wringing a choked moan out of him, “we find a better use for it then.”

Anders whimpered, nodding as much as he was able in the iron grasp Fenris had on him. No force was needed to get him pressing his open mouth to the base of the tantalizing cock before him, jutting up as it was from the nest of light hair at Fenris’ groin and curving gently to the right.

“Vampire?” Fenris’ tone was nervous, but Anders felt his arousal increase slightly and it fed his own.

“Hmm?” he acknowledged absently, giving little licks to the shaft as he worked his way up.

“Your－ _ah_ －fangs.”

“Oh, not hurting you, am I?” 

Anders made a point of brushing the smooth side of one fang against the turgid flesh with the next sweep of his tongue, relishing the gasp it earned him. This was definitely not his first time navigating a blow job with his unique dentition, but he was sure Fenris had never experienced one like it. Most vampires avoided putting their mouths on such sensitive areas, for obvious reasons. Sometimes, the urge to bite down was just too strong and accidents happened, which was not all too horrible with another vampire, but with someone who can’t regrow limbs. . .well.

It was a good thing Anders had had so much practice in restraining himself and a couple tricks up his sleeve that always served him well.

Slowly, so as not to upset the rhythm he set with his tongue, lips, and teeth, Anders tugged Fenris’ jeans lower, sliding them off his hips and halfway down his thighs to give him access to the arteries there.

“Anders, _fasta vas_ , stop teasing.” Fenris’ hand twisted in his hair and Anders’ felt his own erection twitch in his scrub bottoms. 

Time to get serious then.

Propping himself up on his knees and elbows, Anders lifted Fenris’ hips up, grateful for vampire strength and endurance all over again. He sucked the swollen head into his mouth, flattening his tongue just under the corona and dragging it up and over the weeping slit before slowly easing himself down the rest. It had been a while since he did this, so it was best not to rush it, but the masochist in him was tempted to gag himself on it a bit. Fenris uncharitably held him back, however.

“Every inch, vampire. Take your time.”

Thanking the Maker that Fenris hung wider rather than longer, Anders finally swallowed him into his throat, breathing deeply through his nose against sweat-dampened, scarred skin.

_Scarred?_

Before he could contemplate the implications of that, Fenris was yanking him back by his hair. Getting the message loud and clear, Anders began to move, bobbing his head over Fenris and minding his fangs. Unable to draw his lips over his normal teeth, they did lightly scrape against him, but it only seemed to make Fenris more desperate. 

His head was thrown back on the coverlet when Anders looked up at him from under his lashes and while Fenris tried to hold back most of his moans, he was no less passionate. The elf’s hips bucked up to meet every descent and Anders felt a fond warmth settle in his stomach observing the way he pawed at the bed with his free hand. Still trying to hold onto his control even when seeking release, the poor bastard.

Anders increased his pace as much as he dared, pleased when a strangled groan came out of Fenris. He was so close, Anders could feel it pressing at him, trying to bring him over as well.

“Vamp－Anders－I－!” he panted, voice utterly wrecked. 

When the first pulse of seed hit the back of his throat, Anders pulled off and bit into Fenris’ thigh, decadent femoral blood painting his tongue.

The scream Fenris released was guttural and went all the way down to Anders’ toes. The hand fisting his hair slackened as the rest of Fenris shook and twitched through his orgasm and was damn near petting him when he finally relaxed, breathing shallow.

Anders sealed the bite and carefully set the other back down on the bed, thrilled with the telltale wet patches on his black t-shirt.

“Was that all right?” Anders asked, suddenly worried he may have pushed too far, “I didn’t ask about biting you, but I figured you might like it, so－”

“Come here and stop babbling.” Fenris huffed, arm held out for him.

“Never would have pegged you for a cuddler.” Anders said as he obliged, curling up beside him and laying his arm across Fenris’ chest.

“I am not cuddling you,” Fenris reached down to cup his hardness through his pants. “I am assisting you.”

“You don’t have to do that.” 

“I know I do not have to. I _want_ to, but only if you want it.” he parroted Anders’ words back.

Anders was not about to argue with him. The blood had left him with a pleasant buzz that he could not see an orgasm ruining.

He buried his hands in Fenris’ unfairly soft hair to pull him even closer, the pair exchanging open and hungry kisses as Anders’ hips rocked up against that kneading palm. 

All too soon, however, he was getting impatient.

“Fenris,” he nearly sobbed, “please.”

“‘Please,’ what?”

“You’re horrible.”

“I am only giving you exactly what you want. So, ‘please’ what, vampire?” Fenris prompted more firmly.

“Please. . .I need your hands on me. I can’t come like this.”

“Better.”

He unlaced the scrubs and dipped his hand into Anders’ boxers, long fingers wrapping around him to stroke in time with his thrusts. His other hand was back in Anders’ hair, yanking his head to the side to give Fenris access to his throat. 

As those blunt teeth pressed into his overheated flesh, Anders wished the elf could bite him the way a vampire bedfellow would have. Wished they could gorge on each other until they both saw stars and fell back, dazed, tasting themselves on their lips.

As the pressure between his legs reached an almost unbearable level, those wistful thoughts were banished from his mind and he gave a keening cry right in Fenris’ sensitive ear.

Fenris grunted in pain and bit him harder, sending Anders tumbling over the edge, grasping and shaking.

Fenris’ thumb still stroked him gently as he came down. He kissed Anders' neck in apology.

“Are you all right?” he asked quietly.

“Believe me,. . .I have had way worse bites. . .than that. That one was practically a kiss.” Anders said, unable to stop himself from sliding his arms around Fenris, scooching closer.

“I always forget about this.” 

Anders looked up as the hunter pulled his hand free of the scrubs, seeing crimson smeared morbidly over the back of his fingers. Another awkward truth of vampire physiology: blood ejaculate.

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that. Wanna wash up?” 

“Later. I am too tired to move.” Fenris said through a yawn.

“I can lick them clean, if you want.” Anders offered, his words already starting to slur.

“That is quite enough debauchery for the moment, so behave yourself. Get some sleep, vampire. You will need it for your shift tonight.” Fenris chided, fixing his pants and tugging what blankets he could over them.

“Fuck, I do have to work, don’t I?” Anders said, snuggling against a laughing Fenris. His eyes were not shut a moment before he was slipping into blissful, dreamless sleep in his vampire hunter’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hokay, so like, this is my first time writing smut since high school and my very first time writing it between two characters with penises. It's tearing me up because I'm not sure I did it well at all. 
> 
> I know what you're thinking: "Reaper, it's fic, it's meant to be fun, chill."
> 
> It's just, I consider fic to be the big thing for me since novel writing doesn't seem like it's going to pan out and a lot of the fic I want to read has smut in it and hella good smut at that. I just. . .I want to reach that level of goodness someday.
> 
> So, I guess I just want to know that I didn't completely bomb this and have some merit as a fic writer. It's probs going to keep me up at night. Oh, that's a lie, but I will still be waiting to see what ya'll think. Hope it wasn't too shit.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *In Mrs. Doubtfire voice* HELLO!
> 
> I. . .had a lot of fun writing this chapter. Too much, really. It's over 40 pages. X.x 
> 
> I actually spent the last two or three days rewriting it since I didn't care for how it was turning out. This means I cut a lot of fun stuff out, including my favorite line of dialogue to date: "Au contraire, mon cher. It is completely necessary. I don’t want to show up one day and find a charred pile of bones where my bestie used to be, thanks." 
> 
> May it rest in peace.
> 
> Also, I have hinted on my tumblr that this is when shit really starts getting into the angst, and it may not immediately seem like it here, but trust me when I say, almost everything in this chapter was a segue into what will be going down in the next ones. Possibly all the way up to the end. Yeah, I actually planned my shit out that far for once. Go Me.
> 
> Also, I tried to dive deeper into Fenris' past and how he deals with it here. Will defs be doing that more too, so be prepared to cry (at least, I did).
> 
> Hope ya'll enjoy it!

Fenris awoke to a pair of glowing, blue eyes glaring down at him over Anders’ shoulder. Starting, the hunter nearly flung himself off the small bed before he processed what exactly he was looking at. Or rather, what was looking at him.

“Vampire, your cat. . . ” he said, breathlessly.

“Mm?” came the sleepy reply.

“Your cat looks, not only like he is contemplating eating me, but as though he may very well be possessed.”

“Just flick ‘m on the nose.”

Ignoring the utter absurdity of such a suggestion for the moment, Fenris replied, “I wish to keep my hand.”

“Oh, for the love of－”

Anders turned over, nearly rolling on top of Ser Pounce-A-Lot’s puffed up form, and shook a finger in the cat’s face.

“Stop that. We’ve talked about this. Leave Fenris alone.”

A gravelly wail issued from Ser Pounce in response.

“You talked to your cat. . .about me? Other than the time I was present?”

“Well yeah, we talk all the time. Why wouldn’t I?” Anders yawned, rolling back into his side as though he had been doing so for years. Fenris could not deny that the nearness felt nice.

“I am beginning to worry about your sanity, just so you are aware.” was all he said, however, lifting his hand to rest it once more on Anders’ scrub-clad hip. He noticed the forgotten blood from that afternoon and made a face as he flexed his fingers, cracking the rusty smears across his knuckles. Anders said, without opening his eyes,

“You _do_ know I cantalk to animals though, right?”

Fenris propped himself up on his arm, keeping his eyes on Ser Pounce-A-Lot in case the cat tried anything.

“I am certain you _think_ you can, yes.” he said.

He felt Anders’ gaze on him then, genuine shock in his voice.

“Have you really never met another vampire who can communicate with beasts before? I thought it was a pretty common talent. Everyone always made out like it was, anyway.”

There was a pause. Fenris chanced a glance at Anders’ face.

“You mean, of course, that vampires actually. . ?”

“ _Some_ vampires. Not all. Karl was crap at it. Hawke was no better. ‘Animals are for eating anyway, Anders’, she used to tell me. I think she was a bit jealous.”

Fenris let out a low whistle and flopped down on his back. Anders’ face appeared above him a moment later, looking playful.

“What, did you just think I was quirky or something?” he asked.

“Truthfully, I thought you might simply be more than a little unhinged.”

A blonde brow raised at that.

“And you chose to fool around with me anyway? Nice to know I’ve still got it even when I come across as crazy, I guess.”

Fenris groaned, eyes rolling upward.

“Do you not have a job to get to?” he asked.

It was Anders’ turn to groan. He peered over his shoulder at the clock on the nightstand before letting out an even louder one and dragging his disheveled form out of bed grumpily.

Fenris merely shook his head at the childishness. Out of all the vampires he could decide to bond with, he had had to end up with the adorably whiny one.

Fenris froze, feeling as though a bucket of ice water had been thrown on him. It was one thing for him to consider Anders attractive enough to sleep with, but quite another for him to be describing a parasitic fiend as ‘adorable’. 

What in Thedas was wrong with him? This was the same type of creature that held him captive nearly a third of his life. The same kind that used him for blood, sex, and a plaything for their Childe. Anders, for all his prattling and cat-worshipping, was _dangerous_ and Fenris absolutely knew better than to fall into the same trap twice.

Didn’t he?

Before Fenris could work himself into a proper lather over it, a bright green shirt was tossed over his face.

“It’s too early for you to be feeling so loud.” Anders said. “That might be a little big, but you can wear it home since we kind of got yours dirty. You can toss it in the wash if you want and I’ll return it later.” 

Fenris numbly picked it up to read the lettering around the large motif of lions, leopards, and tigers prancing about and almost choked.

“‘I like big cats and I cannot lie’?” he asked incredulously. “You certainly do have a fondness for them, don’t you?”

“Cats are the best things ever. They don’t demand I bond with them then tempt me with kisses and their juicy necks at any rate.” Anders said, tone mock casual.

Fenris nearly refused it, but the risk of being caught by Isabela in one of her ‘surprise’ visits with his shirt in such a state had him simply thanking Anders instead. He opted to ignore the comment about _him_ being the one doing the tempting for the moment. They would eventually have to address it, he knew, but he was not really in the mood to ruin a decent enough evening.

“Going to go shower.” Anders said, a stack of clean, if hastily selected, clothes in his arms. “Unless you want to go first?”

“It can wait until I return home. I have been neglecting my own job.”

“Oh. Right. Hunting.”

The swiftness with which the mild concern dropped off Anders’ face to be replaced with forced indifference made Fenris curse inwardly. Hurt lanced the bond, despite Anders’ attempts to suppress it.

“I do plan to keep hunting, yes.” Fenris said, trying and failing to shake off the unexpected wave of guilt. “Perhaps I should have told you before－”

“Nope. No, it’s fine.” Anders said quickly, waving him off and turning for the door.

“Anders,”

“Hunters gonna hunt. I get it, okay? I’ll see you later, I guess.”

Fenris rolled to his feet, reaching for him, but vampire speed won out in the end. The hunter was grasping at air almost the same moment he heard the bathroom door close and the lock slide home.

Sighing at the situation he had flung himself into (again), Fenris glanced once more at the shirt Anders had given him. He could not help but feel somewhat relieved that the other was not there to witness him putting it on as he finally yanked off his own dark t-shirt. Anders was disturbed by the scars on his throat and arms; Fenris could just imagine how he would feel upon seeing the rest of him, branded as he was. 

Cat shirt donned and feeling appropriately ridiculous for it, Fenris grabbed his jacket from where it had slid to the floor and stuffed his balled-up shirt in one of the pockets before putting it on.

A curious _mrrrrow_ sounded out, making him spin around for fear of another vicious attack by the demon cat, who had mysteriously disappeared.

Bendytwiggs padded in the doorway, luminous eyes trained on Fenris’ face as she came to sit before him. She meowed again, flat face turning up, as though asking what he and Anders had been up to all day.

Baffled by Anders’, arguably, ugliest cat’s sudden interest in him, Fenris looked around the room for some sort of answer. Finding none to satisfy, he figured why the Void not?

“If you can understand me at all, Cat,” he said, quietly so Anders could not use it against him later, “it would be best that you keep your distance. Your more violent roommate has made it abundantly clear that I am not to be tolerated.”

Bendytwiggs yawned wide, a blatant show of disinterest. In Fenris’ words or Ser Pounce-A-Lot’s possible ire, the elf was not certain. 

Standing and giving a long stretch, the walking dust mop twined herself around Fenris’ legs, stuttering purrs emitting from her chest all the while.

“Good to know Anders is not the only one who doesn’t want me dead in this house, I suppose.” Fenris said, sarcasm thick in his voice.

A distant knock had both of them tensing.

Fenris was not aware of Anders expecting anyone. Given the fact that he was currently in the shower, it seemed unlikely that Anders was aware he even should be expecting anyone.

It was entirely possible that Isabela and Varric had waited somewhere close by until they had left the diner and followed them to Anders’ apartment, but why play their hands so soon? Fenris knew the pair would wait for something like card night to show up, unannounced, with the confession that they had known all along where Anders’ lived. Then again, they had already proven Fenris wrong that day.

Rent certainly was not due yet. Even if it were, Kervana, Anders’ apartment manager and upstairs neighbor, would not come to collect so late.

“What do you think? Friend or foe?” Fenris asked Bendytwiggs as the knock came again.

Bendytwiggs’ ears flattened to her skull and she slipped under the bed, bushy tail flicking anxiously behind her.

“Well, that is. . .reassuring.”

Pulling out his knife, Fenris made his way to the living room, carefully avoiding the cats that streaked past him on their way to better hiding spots and vantage points. Not for the first time, he pondered the benefits of going up against something that a bullet could actually manage to drop. While he was intimately familiar with knives and stakes, they did not make for comforting weapons considering how close one had to be to use them effectively.

Unless that one was Varric, of course. The lucky bastard.

The knocking had grown more persistent while Fenris edged closer to the front door and he could hear voices on the other side.

“－home?”

“－the fuck－never goes anywhere－”

Then louder,

“Anders, open up! It’s me!”

The person knocking began a rhythmic beat, accompanied by a chant of,

“O-pen. Up. O-pen. Up. Anders, let us in. O-pen. Up. O-pen. Up.”

Fenris, curiosity piqued, looked through the peephole.

A tawny-skinned woman with dark hair pulled into twin braids on either side of her head was the source of the noise. Behind her stood, Fenris was surprised to see, another elf with tattoos etched starkly against her sepia face and half of her own head shaved.

“What if he really _isn’t_ home, Geldie?” she asked in an accented voice that sounded nothing like the average Kirkwaller. “You said he works, didn’t you?”

“Fuck. Why bother working, though, really?”

“Well, he does live alone. In a rough neighborhood by the looks of things－”

The knocker’s voice went fond as she looked back at her. “No, babe, that was rhetorical.” 

“Oh. . .right. Missed that one.”

Fenris did not have time to wonder if it was his place to let them in or not as Anders was beside him not a moment later, damp hair loose and smelling of something spicy-sweet.

“Put that away. It’s Hawke.” he chided, unlocking the door.

If Fenris had any doubt that this was _the_ Hawke, the rush of affection from the Anders Zone would have crushed it.

 _Wonderful, another vampire I am not permitted to kill._ Fenris sulked, tucking his knife out of sight and going to stand at the end of the couch. Taking note once more of the flaking blood on his hand, he pulled out his gloves and tugged them on, fighting down a blush.

Anders had thrown open the door, catching the woman as she all but flew into his arms with a triumphant squeal.

“I was just about to have Merrill mist through your keyhole and let me in. What took you so long?” she asked, rocking them back and forth.

“You caught me getting ready to go on shift, actually.”

“My Ander-nanders, ever the workaholic.” 

“We can’t all be born into money, Hawke.” Anders said exasperatedly, pulling back but keeping his arms loosely looped around her－bare, Fenris noticed with a startling amount of dislike－midriff.

“ _I_ wasn’t, in case you’ve forgot. Grandpa just gave Mom back _her_ money and she’s lavished her broke-ass children with it.” Hawke said, stretching up to plant a kiss on his cheek.

Fenris felt warmth creep into the bond and wrestled the irrational urge to rip Anders away from her. It was not as if he owned the vampire. Regardless of whatever it was exactly they were, Anders could do whatever he liked as long as he wasn’t bleeding Kirkwall dry. 

_And as long as it does not involve her,_ Fenris amended to himself somewhat acidly.

The elf who’d arrived with Hawke made her way inside much slower－barefoot, he saw－and closed the door behind her before moving to stand next to Fenris, looking every bit the guest in a place she was not sure she was welcome. He related far more than he was sure he was comfortable with at the moment.

“What are you doing here? Not that I’m not glad to see you, but don’t you have a household to manage, Ms. Amell?” Anders asked voice taking on a haughty air.

“Psshhht. That’s Carver’s problem now. He wants to feel important so badly then let him, I say. As long as he maintains the fortune and keeps Uncle Gamlen from spending it all, I don’t really care what he does..” Hawke said, shrugging one shoulder.

“So, he’s mated someone then? That’s nice, I suppose.”

Hawke snorted and her companion gave a knowing smile beside Fenris.

“He wishes. Bethy did, though.” Hawke said with a wide grin and lifted brows.

Anders’ own brows nearly disappeared into his hairline.

“With _who_?” he asked.

“Nate.”

“Howe?”

“Yup.”

“ _No._ ”

“Uh-huh.”

“She’s going to eat him alive.” Anders said, disbelieving.

“Hey, Nate’s been pretty decent since you helped him have that huge stick removed. Bethy loves him anyway. His father gives me the creeps, though.” Hawke made a show of shuddering. “I told them to keep their little crotch dumplings away from that one when she finally pops.”

“Beth’s _pregnant_?”

No longer able to stand the assault of excitement from the Anders’ Zone, nor the way Hawke’s hands lingered on Anders’ shoulders, Fenris cleared his throat. Loudly.

Both vampires turned to him and the elf beside him, who gave a little wave.

“Hi, Anders.” she said sweetly before Fenris could do or say anything more. He only just resisted glaring at her.

“Hi. . .I’m sorry, I don’t know your name. Have we met?” Anders asked, sheepishly.

“No, but Geldie’s told me lots about you. How you used to date? I was hoping you might have some advice for me?”

Anders’ looked back down at Hawke with a question in his eyes.

“Anders, this is my mate, Merrill.” she said, gesturing with a wave of her arm.

To Fenris’ immense relief, he finally let her go and backed away.

“Maker, I’m sorry. I didn’t know－”

“It’s all right.” Merrill assured him, practically glowing as she looked at Hawke. “Our bond’s still recent and neither of us mind the idea of sharing one day.”

This time, Fenris _did_ glare at her. 

“Still, I shouldn’t have－this is Fenris. He’s a friend that’s. . .in the know, so to speak, about us. Um, _really_ in the know, I guess. Not a vamp, though. Ah－” Anders dithered as he gestured between the three of them, no doubt trying to think of a good cover for the fact that a vampire hunter was knowingly standing among members of their kind and not trying to kill them all.

“I was just leaving.” Fenris said, figuring they could discuss the touching later as well. Though why he felt the need to discuss it at all baffled him. Anders was allowed to have other acquaintances, even lovers, if he chose. It did not matter to Fenris one bit.

“Oh, no need to rush off.” Hawke said, putting up a hand to halt his departure. “We’re heading out soon and wanted to let Anders know. You might be interested in this too.”

“‘Heading out’? Where are you going?” Anders asked.

“We’re moving to Tevinter.” Merrill piped up.

A surge of emotion swept through Anders and Fenris found himself in a similar state. Tevinter? Of course. It _always_ came back to Tevinter.

“Why?” Anders said.

Hawke only smirked in a manner that reminded Fenris, worryingly, of Isabela before vaulting the back of the couch with ease and patting the cushion beside her.

Fenris ignored her offer to sit, figuring it was better to keep the battered piece of furniture between them just in case, but Anders and Merrill moved to curl up next to her without hesitation.

“I don’t really belong at home anymore what with Carver running things and Bethany in the process of ensuring the Howe and Amell lines continue. Merrill can’t actually go back to her family for. . .let’s just say she can’t because reasons. You remember the Pavuses?” Hawke said.

“How can I forget? I only just stopped having dreams about Dorian a few weeks ago.” Anders told her, purposefully avoiding Fenris’ eyes over the back of the couch. Despite his confusing upset over the whole situation, he could not stop himself smiling.

“Well, you’ll be glad to know that he finally broke away from his conservative family and started his own house. He’s building it with vampires who feel like they don’t fit into the typical vampire scene. You know－” 

“The stuffy, purist elite?” Anders remarked scathingly.

Hawke nodded. “We figured we would check it out and, basically, we’re inviting you to come with us.”

The Anders Zone hummed with an undercurrent of energy that Fenris could not name, but the jittery quality of it comforted him slightly. He hoped it meant Anders was just as terrified by the prospect as himself. Go to Tevinter? After what Fenris had gone through and finally managed to escape only by sheer luck? A place where vampire clans seemed to make up the very foundation and spilled forth from the woodwork when it came to those without the protection of money or social standing? Fenris had not even been able to bear leaving his mother and sister in such a place once he was free of Danarius, estranged as they were. Varric had helped them relocate just outside of Starkhaven and Fenris was _still_ trying to pay the dwarf back. Varric, of course, only waved him off whenever he tried bringing the matter up. No, discussing the very idea was pointless as far as he was concerned: Anders would not be going anywhere that Fenris would not be.

“Really?” was all Anders said. 

Hawke hummed, taking one of Anders’ hands in both of hers. Fenris bit back the snarl threatening to break loose from him. Honestly, Isabela’s far-from-innocent touches had not bothered him nearly so much, what was so different about this?

“It’s like I told Merrill last night: You _need_ to get away from this area of Thedas, Anders.” she said, expression beseeching. “Even if it’s just for a year or two. Transfer to one of the hospitals there, if you want. You just. . .need to start living again. If not for me or for Karl, then for yourself. Tevinter might be the best place to do that. There’s a shit ton of vampire clans there, not just noble ones either.”

“You could even bring your kitties. There’s plenty of room and Dorian likes cats from what I’ve heard.” Merrill said, teasing one of the cats in question with a piece of twine she’d pulled from her pocket. Bendytwiggs had finally gotten curious about Anders’ new visitors and was pawing at the simple toy, quite content with the play.

 _Traitor._ Fenris thought uncharitably at her.

“I don’t know, Hawke.” Anders said, eyes darting to Fenris before landing on their joined hands. “I’ve started to feel at home in Kirkwall, hectic as it can be. Besides that, Karl died _here_. I have to－”

The same pain of before was back in the bond, doing no less to make Fenris want to comfort him than it had the last time, but the elf resisted it with all the stubbornness he could muster. It wasn’t Anders’ fault he was behaving like an jealous teenager, but Fenris did not quite trust himself not to do his damnedest to put some sanity-giving distance between them if he got any closer. Besides, he could not reasonably abide the serious consideration Anders was giving the fool notion in the first place.

“Anders,” Hawke said gently, “hunters don’t make themselves easy prey unless they’re laying a trap for us. Even if you had more to go on than a voice and a sword, it’s unlikely you’ll find her unless she learns you’re still alive and comes to finish the job. Let it go, love.”

“I’m so sorry.” Merrill said, voice even more quiet on the other side of Anders as she placed a hand on his back. “No one should have to lose a mate like that. I can’t imagine what I would do if Geldie. . .I guess what I’m trying to say is, it makes sense you’d want revenge, it does. She does have a point, though.”

Amidst the overwhelming amount of discomfort Fenris felt at the pair touching his vampire so casually was the smallest bit of sympathy. Anders had led him to believe he and Karl had been merely involved, not some vampire version of married. Not that it made a whole lot of difference, but his grief was clearly great if he still held the hope he would locate his clan’s killers.

Ruminating on Anders’ previous relationship set the gears turning in Fenris’ head just enough for him to arrive at another terrible realization that evening.

Hawke had called Merrill her ‘mate’. The pair were bonded, according to the elf. Anders and Karl’s bond marked them as mates as well, apparently. Well, up until Karl’s death. Unless there was another necessary factor in that equation, then Fenris. . .could be. . . . 

A painful throbbing took up residence in the vicinity of his left eye.

“My life has gotten a little. . .complicated. Moving might not be the best thing for me right now.” Anders said, voice somewhat shaky, no doubt picking up on Fenris’ steadily increasing horror. “It is a tempting offer, though, to be fair.”

 _Like the Void it is._ Fenris thought furiously, trying to force himself back into some semblance of calm. What had he done? Of all the rash, idiotic decisions he’d made in his life, this one was definitely in the top five.

“Complicated how? You’re not in trouble are you?” Hawke demanded, switching from concerned to fierce in an instant. 

“I wouldn’t call it ‘trouble’, exactly. Just. . .”

As Anders’ gaze moved back over to Fenris again, Hawke’s followed it. One of her brows rose before the corner of her mouth followed suit.

“So, exactly how close are you two?” she asked Fenris, a mischievous edge to her voice.

“Hawke.” Anders said. It was a warning if Fenris ever heard one.

“There’s a strange elf in your house that _isn’t_ a vampire and seems awfully grumpy at little ol’ me monopolizing all your attention. It’s a perfectly reasonable question.”

Fenris, for all of the questions he himself now possessed, was taken aback by the bold frankness in her assessment. It turned out this vampire was an appalling amount like Isabela, after all. As if the world needed another one.

“We met at the hospital.” Fenris lied smoothly, bringing up a hand to rub at his temple. He did not particularly care if strange vampires knew what he was, but one look at Anders’ face said it was best he kept it to himself.

“Oh really?” Hawke said. Her coal eyes never left his, the brown-red paint lining them almost disguising the subtle, but asymmetrical, epicanthic folds of her lids. She had a younger face than Fenris pictured, heart-shaped and luminous with nary a single line or mark, but those eyes. . .they had seen plenty.

“Yes. I was in a car accident.” It wasn’t technically a lie. Fenris _had_ had an accident, just not from anything involving a car. In fact, it was while he was being wheeled to another room for x-rays that he had spied Anders, beyond a slightly ajar door, licking blood from his medical gloves to begin with. 

Not that Fenris had mentioned being witness to that disturbingly alluring scene. Anders was already sensitive enough about his eating habits without putting him on the spot.

“You must have spent a lot of time in there to finally get Anders to come out of his pretty shell. It took him _forever_ to warm up to me after. . .well, you must be special if he told you our secret. Not exactly safe for beings like us, you know.”

“I suspect not from what he has told me.” Fenris said, shifting his weight uneasily. How Anders could have remained interested in this unsettling woman for any great length of time was beyond him.

Hawke shared a look with Merrill over Anders’ shoulder. The latter doing her utmost to curb her own interest, if the way she bit her lip like she was holding back even more prying questions was any indicator.

“Are you done picking on Fenris yet? That’s kind of my job.” Anders asked, going for his usual nonchalant and sounding more like he was having issues swallowing.

“So, you and him _are_ boning then, huh?” The smug smile Hawke turned on her friend was downright devious.

Anders sighed, long and loud as Fenris tensed, cheeks heating. Just what about him and Anders screamed ‘screwing each other’? Did he even _want_ to know? F _asta vass_ , he thought, _we_ _have only just started_.

“Not gonna talk about it.” Anders said, turning away from both of them to scoop up Bendytwiggs. 

“I think we should.” Hawke pressed, grin somehow growing.

“Oh Geldie, don’t. They’re both going as red as cherries.” Merrill said, bringing both hands up to try and stifle her giggles. “I think it’s very sweet. That you aretogether, that is.”

“We are not.” Fenris said flatly, hating how intimidated these clucking hens made him feel. Why did he have to have a penchant for meeting vampires so unlike vampires? It was time to go home.

Ignoring the disappointment from the Anders Zone as he made to leave, Fenris said,

“I will see you later, Anders.” 

“Whoa, no need to take off. I didn’t mean to bring up a touchy subject.” Hawke said, not sounding sorry at all.

Fenris did not reply, but as he pulled the door open, she spoke again.

“ **Stop.** ”

Fenris froze in the threshold, feet rooted to the spot. A fresh sense of dread washed over him as he tried to fight whatever compulsion held him.

“ **Come back here and close the door.** ”

Against his wishes, Fenris jerkily did as Hawke ordered, stomach turning over with every action.

“Hawke, _don’t_.” Anders’ distress was as strong as Fenris own when he was finally in control of himself again and rounded on her.

“What did you do to me?” he demanded, only just managing to hold himself back from plunging a knife into her neck by gripping the back of the couch so hard his knuckles cracked.

“You actually noticed me doing it?” She merely sounded impressed. “You really _are_ special, then.”

Anders nodded to the curtained door leading to the yard.

“Hawke, can I talk to you for a second? Alone?” 

To his credit, his anger settled against Fenris’ own, his shaking hand moving over Bendytwiggs’ fur in short, quick strokes to calm himself. 

Hawke’s eyes finally left Fenris, bright only with interest, to settle on him.

“Of course. I have a tendency to love alone time with you, you know.” she said, getting unhurriedly to her feet. Anders followed, still cradling the cat in his arms, and shot a look over his shoulder at Fenris as if to say, “wait there”.

Fenris, still seething at vampire audacity, glanced at Merrill when the door was slid shut behind them. Her darker green eyes were turned up toward him in apparent curiosity. Fenris only gave her a curt nod of acknowledgment, which Merrill returned. . .by smiling toothily and nearly sending Fenris into cardiac arrest.

As if sensing the impression she was making, Merrill winced and cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry, Hawke and I haven’t－you smell very nice _._ ”

Fenris raised a brow at her.

“Not for eating, I mean. Well, I’m sure you do to Anders, just not me so no need to worry about that. Do you use a special cologne or－? I’m babbling, aren’t I?” 

If she had been an ordinary elf, Fenris might have taken some pity on the way she was trying so hard to make small talk. As the situation stood, he just wanted her to be quiet.

“I’m Merrill.” she continued, fidgeting with the tail of one of her braids. “You already knew that, though. Have you two been together long then?”

“No.” Fenris said. He considered facing Anders’ wrath and leaving as he originally planned. There was no real point to him staying if Anders was not seriously planning on moving. Not that the hunter believed he would. What would be the point of their bonding? Fenris certainly would not be going back to that cesspit just to keep tabs on him and had no intention of letting Anders vanish to do only the Maker knew what with Hawke. . . .

The sudden possessiveness plaguing him needed to cease, of that much Fenris was certain. The pair of them were already on a slippery enough slope without him viewing their bond as. . .it was different for them. It had to be. Even if it was the same thing as marriage, Fenris _knew_ that he did not like Anders beyond the superficial. The vampire was attractive, funny, occasionally insightful, and quite nice in bed, but he had also killed for his own cursed survival, saw others like him as trustworthy members of society without temperance, and had just admitted to plotting to find and kill someone who had threatened him in the past. Fenris could be next on that list if Anders decided his blood (and the sex) was no longer a worthwhile compensation for tying him down. Fenris could not allow himself to forget that, no matter how charming the absurdity of them “being together” might present itself.

It was not as though Anders thought of him as anything more than a tentative ally. Perhaps even a friend on a good day. Due to their long lives, enhanced abilities and supernatural prowess, vampires did not view those outside of their species with anything more than the fond regard one might show a favored pet, as Hawke’s actions affirmed. 

Danarius had certainly driven the point into Fenris enough for him to know better. What was _wrong_ with him? There was no way it would work, even if he was capable of getting over all that had brought him to this point. Certainly not while Fenris remained very much _not_ a vampire, in any case.

So caught up in his own thoughts, Fenris nearly missed what Merrill said next.

"－adjusting to being a vampire is hard, but Hawke makes it seem almost easy. I imagine Anders would do the same for you if you decided to make the change.”

Her face and tone showed no hint of malice, but Fenris felt as if she’d reached up and slapped him across the room anyway. It was almost as if she. . .no, it was merely a coincidence. More of her need to fill silence. Fenris might even have laughed at the idea if it were not the absolute last thing he wanted. Become a vampire? Him? He would rather be given back to a reanimated Danarius first.

Fighting down the nausea threatening to overwhelm him at the very thought, Fenris shook his head.

“No. I will not decide to do that. _Ever._ ” he said, tone much harsher than he had intended it to be.

Merrill’s eyes widened and she rushed to placate him.

“I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to assume. You both just seem so content with each other－”

“We are _not_.” he bit out.

“Then. . .why did you bond with him?”

Fenris paused. How could she know about the bond? Anders had made it very clear the night they bound themselves together that they would only be talking about it on a need-to-know basis. Fenris had agreed.

“No one told me.” Merrill said, sheepishly. “I. . .pick up on things. Sometimes. It’s one of my abilities. I can’t hear _everything_ , but loud thoughts just leap into my head.”

Fenris’ blood ran cold.

“I promise I won’t tell Hawke.” she said, winking and glancing at the door as if afraid her mate could hear her. For all Fenris knew, she probably could.

“How much do you know?” he asked, nearly leaning into her space. Admirably enough, she did not try and move away.

“Just about the bond. Oh, and that you kill us for a living, which is very rude, by the way. Someone named ‘Danarius’. You and Anders. . .” 

Her cheeks went a deeper shade of brown. “We. . .didn’t interrupt you two, did we? I can’t always tell what’s memory and what’s fantasy. Not got a lot of control over it, yet. I－oh, shut up, Merrill.”

“You read my thoughts?” Fenris needed to be sure.

“Not on purpose, I swear. Although I do have a knack for getting the more emotionally-driven ones.” She meekly added, “Hawke still likes Anders, but she’s not going to take him from you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Stop it.” Fenris hissed, straightening.

“I’m sorry.” Merrill said. She looked it, at least, pressing her hands into her lap with eyes squeezed shut as if she were bracing for a swat.

“I. . .I am not going to hit you, stop that. But,” Fenris struggled to get his own emotions under control so the inquisitive leakage from Anders would stop probing around. “You need to manage that better.”

“I’m trying. I really am. It’s not as easy as you’d think, staying out of people’s heads. They, well, they do a lot of talking in there, don’t they?” Merrill half-joked around a nervous smile. “You would not believe the things I’ve picked up from Hawke and her family. I knew Bethany was pregnant before anyone else. It was hard to keep that a secret.”

“Vampires cannot have children?” Fenris said. He had not meant to make it a question, but he was not the surest in vampire physiology aside from how to kill one.

“They can’t. Bethany hasn’t gone through the change yet. She’s human, like Hawke was a year ago.”

Even more confused, Fenris simply looked at her.

“Old vampire families are different than vampire clans.” Merrill explained, smiling at Ser-Pounce-A-Lot and Ms. Mittens as they tumbled by on the carpet, play fighting. “Families have children before they turn to continue a line. Clans just make whoever they deem worthy to help their clan grow. Hawke is from one of the oldest vampire lines: The Amells. Bethany is her baby sister.”

“They turn their own children?” Fenris asked, disturbed.

Merrill nodded. “From what I understand of it, families with more children to carry on the line get more choices. In the Amells’ case, there are four in the direct family line. Five, if you include the one they can’t find: Geldina, Carver, Bethany, Charade and Solona.”

“What if none of them wish to turn?”

“It. . .depends. Some families are okay with that since there are so many still alive due to being vampires, but some get angry if their children choose to let the line die out. It’s the same for those who don’t choose to have children before turning. A lot of families are determined to stay around. I don’t really understand wanting to live forever, myself.”

Fenris snorted. “Yet here you are, immortal and befanged.”

Merrill looked uncomfortable. “Not by my choice. I was found like this.”

“What do you mean you were ‘found’?”

She didn’t answer right away, but her eyes were suspiciously red-tinged when she did.

“Hawke found me. In the woods outside of Kirkwall proper, she－. I was feral, covered in blood, and feeding on a halla.”

Fenris opened his mouth to respond but Merrill spoke first.

“No, I don’t remember how I got there.”

“At least pretend you cannot invade my mind on a whim, witch.”

“I didn’t have to read your mind.” Merrill said. She sounded impossibly tired. “That was the first thing everyone I told asked me: ‘how did you get here?’. It’s usually followed by ‘who made you?’ and ‘how long were you running around, avoiding the sun, and eating whatever came into your path?’. I don’t know any of it. Nothing. I just remember going to bed at home and when I woke up, I was bloodied, soaked from rain, and in Hawke’s arms.”

Merrill had pulled her knees up to her chest, resembling a young child even more than her features already made her look with the position. A streak of ruby trailed down her cheek and she swiped at it, self-conscious.

“I tried going back to the Dalish.” she went on, staring at her bare toes. “The Sabrae Dalish that live outside of the city limits? Our Keeper looked at me like I was a monster when I told her.”

 _As she should._ Fenris did his best to empty himself of all emotion when the thought swept through him, unbidden. The girl was already crying and, besides, it was not as if it were truly her fault.

“She told me she would try and find a cure for me, but everyone wanted to lock me in a basement until then. Wouldn’t let the children near me. Called me such horrible names, I cried. Right there, in front of Hawke. I couldn’t believe these were the people I’d grown up with. If Tamlen were still alive－Or Ara’n still－”

Merrill gave a shuddering gasp, squeezing her shins hard to stave off what promised to be a heavy bout of sobbing.

“I don’t even know why I’m telling you this,” she said, finally. “You have enough of your own problems to deal with.”

Fenris gave it some thought, unsure why he even cared. With the exception of his current charge, he took great pains not to grow close to those he hunted and he was certainly under no obligation to feel sorry for one he’d only just met. It hardly had to do with them both being elves; Fenris was a hunter who just so happened to be an elf, not the other way around.

Looking at Merrill and seeing how little she knew of her own existence as the creature she would remain, regardless of what her Keeper had promised her, until she was either killed or met the sun left a bitter taste in his mouth. It could have been him, wild and killing indiscriminately, had Danarius willed it. No amount of pleading or “behaving” would have spared him. Fenris could have been turned, left with no memory of how it was done, to try and take his revenge or wait for sunrise. 

He vowed to get Varric and Isabela something very nice for their birthdays. It would not be enough, but they deserved it and more.

“I am sorry that you had to contend with that.” Fenris said, surprised that he truly was.

“Me too.” Merrill said, smiling sadly up at him.

“－shit, and you know it.”

Both elves jumped as Hawke slid the door back and stormed in, eyes ablaze with determination.

“What happened?” Merrill asked, grinding her palms into her eyes to try and hide her earlier distress.

“Merrill, I know you’re upset, angel. It’s okay.” Hawke said, offhand. She was looking at Fenris, though.

“Hawke, you promised.” Anders said from behind her. He closed and locked the door, dropping Bendytwiggs, who darted toward where Ser Pounce-A-Lot and Ms. Mittens had dissolved into grooming one another. He made a show of looking at the clock over the television. “Besides, I have to get to the hospital or Kalli will have my ass on a plate.”

“This will only take a minute. Two, tops.” Hawke promised. She seemed to be sizing Fenris up even more than last time, her curvy frame planted on the opposite side of the couch, arms akimbo.

“Yes?” Fenris asked, sending Anders a pointed look over her head.

“I’m sorry for being such an ass before and I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me.” Hawke said.

“But?” 

“No, no ‘buts’. I know I can be a little careless sometimes and I really need to handle my vampire powers with far more grace and wisdom, as mom keeps telling me. I just want to let you know that I meant no harm. Didn’t mean to chase you off to begin with either.”

Fenris continued to watch her, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Her stance was more befitting of a challenge than an apology. Her face much too busy searching his rather then looking contrite.

“Do not do that again.” Fenris said.

“Warden’s Honor.” Hawke replied. Her smirk was back in an instant. “I need to let you know something, though.”

Aaaaand there it was.

“What might that be?” Fenris asked, tensing. 

“That man, there,” Hawke pointed to Anders who gave a long-suffering sigh and roll of his eyes, “deserves the world. He deserves the world and kittens and ice cream and neck massages and all that good shit, understand? If you break his heart, you have to answer to me, Snowy, and nothing this side of the Veil or the next will protect you from the rage of one, Geldina Leann Tabitha Hawke. Ask around, I’m a bit of a shit.”

“She is.” Anders confirmed. He seemed like he’d rather be inserting catheters at the moment. “A cocky, reckless, loud-mouthed, obstinate－”

“Beautiful, caring, brave, self-sacrificing－” Merrill joined in.

“Damn, ya’ll didn’t have to go that deep.” Hawke cut them off, looking equal parts flustered and annoyed. “My point is this: I won’t let you off the hook if you hurt him. He’s had enough of that.”

“ _Hawke._ ” Anders all but whined, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose. Fenris had to admit witnessing his bashfulness outside of the Anders Zone was a rare treat. Normally, his vampire tried to give the－very wrong－impression that all things rolled off of him, no matter how much they hurt or left him feeling isolated. One point in Hawke’s favor, then, was that she brought out Anders’ more endearing honesty.

“I have no intentions of hurting him.” Fenris told Hawke, fighting back a smile at the look of disbelief Anders sent his way. “I’m far more concerned about his intentions toward myself.”

“As you should be.” Hawke said, her voice taking a surprisingly somber tone. “Man’s a heartbreaker.”

The bond shivered－that’s really the only way Fenris could describe the shifting rush of emotion－and melted into something resembling regret.

Hawke shook off whatever had caused her eyes to look so far away and looked over her shoulder at the nurse.

“My offer still stands, Anders.” she said. “Tevinter could be great for you. . .two. A fresh start. We’re not leaving until the fifth so you have pretty much a month to think it over. _Please_ think it over?”

“Yeah, okay.” Anders promised, his gaze softening.

“Well, we won’t keep you if you’re busy. Just wanted to share that happy bit of news. Merrill and me are going to grab a bite to eat at the pier. Want to come with before you have to go ‘be responsible’ somewhere?”

“I already ate.” Anders lied. He offered her a winning smile despite looking like any starved vampire would: exhausted, paler than a schedule not involving any sun already made one look, and fangs descending at the mere mention of blood. 

“Are you sure? There’s a lot of horrible men who like to harass little girls down there.” Merrill said, her fangs already on full display when she bared them in an anticipatory grin. Had the circumstances been different, Fenris would have felt sorry for the men at the pier. As it was, he was glad these were the targets of the night and not some unsuspecting family.

“Drink one for me, okay?” 

“You’re not still eating those bagged things, are you?” Hawke asked, face scrunched in blatant disgust.

Anders huffed, but smiled to take the edge off of it. “It’s not bad once you drink it long enough to get used to it. Unlike some I could mention, but won’t.”

“It’s _cold_.”

“Microwaves exist, Hawke.”

“Wait, you drink it _bagged_?” Merrill sounded as if she were about to be physically sick.

“I do and don’t let Hawke fool you into thinking it’s not a viable method. The taste can be just as appealing as fresh, even cold.”

“Especially when one starves to the point of not seeing a difference.” Fenris said before he could stop himself.

Three shocked vampire faces had no right being quite so funny to witness.

“Anders, please tell me you’re not going without again.” Hawke said turning to face him.

“All right, I’m not going without again.” Anders told her, smiling.

Hawke was not amused. Neither was Fenris, to be honest.

“Why didn’t you come to me?” she asked.

“Geldina, I can manage on my own, that’s why. Stop fretting over me.”

“Please, come with us tonight. Get someone to cover for you or something.” she pleaded, reaching for him. Anders gently caught her hands in his own, the tenderness exuding from him making Fenris look away. Unfortunately, he met Merrill’s knowing gaze. She had moved in preparation to leave and stood beside him once more, large eyes sympathetic.

“The bond?” she mouthed at him. Fenris recalled her saying she was not bothered by Anders touching her mate, but Fenris could not claim as much, it would seem.

Not that he viewed Anders the same way, of course.

“I’m _fine_.” he assured her almost the same time Anders assured Hawke.

“At least let me order you some more of that bagged crap. I doubt you’re actually buying it, which means you’re not swiping nearly enough.” Hawke said.

“If it will get that crease out of your forehead, okay. Go ahead.”

“The top shelf stuff too. AB+, at least.”

“Hawke, other people need that. Single letters or O is fine.”

“Like it’ll last long enough for someone to be bleeding to death enough for it?” she scoffed.

“I’m a nurse. Believe me, it will and they’ll be grateful there’s not a shortage.” Anders sounded exasperated.

Fenris chanced watching them again and saw Anders giving him a “help me” look over her head. He would have laughed if her next words did not catch him so off-guard.

“Is Fenris feeding you or what?”

“That’s kind of personal, Gel.” Anders said, cheeks pinking.

“Oh, okay. Hey Fenris,” Hawke peered back at him, “you feeding him or what?”

As bashful Anders returned, Fenris could not help a bit of teasing of his own.

“Only every time I’m over. I cut myself the other day at work and nothing came out.” he said, giving a shrug.

Hawke barked a laugh while Anders looked mortified.

“Thank the Maker for little mercies, then.” Hawke said, making her way over and tugging Anders along by the hand.

“Oh, you’re jok－That’s not funny, Fenris, I thought I was seriously hurting you. Asshole.”

“You could not accomplish that on your best day, Anders.” 

It was as those rich brown eyes regarded him with mild surprise that Fenris remembered exactly what they reminded him of. 

Every second moon or so when Fenris was small, his mother used to bring home a tin of tea leaves she bought from a dingy little shop on her way from work. They were somewhat pricey, but arranged by a local herbalist who always had more in their harvest than they personally needed. She used to open it under Fenris and Varania’s noses so they could all inhale the spicy aroma before she sprinkled some into a pot and brought water to a boil. When she poured their cups, she would always add two big spoonfuls of sugar to each with kisses dropped on their hair as they squirmed impatiently, waiting on it to cool enough to drink. Fenris remembered it smelled like cinnamon and tasted like an amalgamation of vanilla and citrus. 

It was one of the few luxuries they were allowed on their mother’s monthly check. It just so happened that Anders had eyes as brown and, remarkably, just as sweet when they looked at him.

“Thanks for looking after him.” Hawke spoke up, voice sincere for a change as she came to stand before Fenris. “As you probably figured out, he doesn’t do that great of a job of it, himself.”

“Hey, I do too.”

“You really don’t.”

“We’ll just leave you two alone now.” Merrill said, looking at Fenris far too significantly for his liking as she took Hawke’s hand and started guiding her to the door. She probably “heard” everything, damn her. 

“Anders, eat something tonight. For me?” Hawke said as she allowed herself to be pulled along, still holding onto his hand.

“I’ll try.” Anders said, half-heartedly.

“Fenris, make him eat something.”

Fenris nodded as she passed him, more relieved than he felt he had any right to be when she finally released Anders to follow her mate, who already had the door open.

“It was nice meeting you both.” Merrill said, laughing as Hawke threw her arms around her and lifted her over the threshold.

“We’ll probs drop in more since I’m no longer in charge of the world.” Hawke said, pausing in the stairwell. She was still holding Merrill off the ground.

“You weren’t in charge of the world to begin with.” Anders said, catching Ms. Mittens as she tried to follow them out the door.

“Tell that to Carver.” Hawke griped under her breath. She made her way up the stairs, calling out goodbyes as Merrill waved. Fenris closed the door after them.

“They were. . .” he began.

“Far too loud for so early in the evening? Over-protective busybodies?” Anders supplied.

“. . .all right.”

“‘All right’? Who are you and what have you done with Fenris?” 

Anders pressed a hand to Fenris’ forehead and the hunter found he could not blame him.

“I admire Hawke’s concern for you. It is certainly not unfounded. I am not sure I enjoyed the touching, though.”

“The touch－? Oh.” Anders smiled, glancing once more at the clock. “I should have warned you about that.”

“It is a normal reaction to seeing the one you are bonded to be pawed?”

“Mm, more like expected. Most vampires I’ve known find it flattering.”

“Do _you_ find it flattering?”

His eyes slid back to Fenris, face the portrait of uncertainty. 

“Will you stake me if I say ‘yes’?”

Fenris shook his head at his silliness. “What you think of me－No, I won’t stake you.”

“Well, since we got that cleared up, I’m going－”

Fenris leaned his back against the door, crossing his arms over his chest.

“The bond,” he said.

“Can’t we do this later? I’m two minutes from being late.”

“No. Now.”

Anders sighed, biting his lower lip.

“Fine. Now, I guess.”

“What does a bond entail culturally?”

“You mean, how do vampires see it?”

Fenris nodded slowly, not missing how Anders took a step back and eyed the door to the yard.

“Anders.”

Indignant, but pleased frustration spiked in the Anders Zone.

“Why do you only ever use my name when you want something from me? It’s a lot easier to ignore you when you’re calling me ‘Vampire’.” he said.

Fenris smiled, despite their current discussion topic.

“That is why I use it.”

Anders stuck his tongue out at him, taking another step back.

“You haven’t answered my question.” Fenris said.

“Maybe because I. Don’t. Want. To.”

“Why not?”

“You’re going to get mad. You always get mad. Then you’ll go on a rant and your nose scrunches when you do that and it’s the cutest thing ever－pleasedon’tmakemetalkaboutthisFenrisIwilldie.”

Pushing aside the cute comment for later, Fenris tried a different tack.

“Would this affect your relationship with others? Being bonded to me?”

Anders stopped backing away, at least.

“It. . .might. I don’t know. A lot of us never bond and still have really nice, fulfilling relationships. Not that I’m looking for anyone, mind you, but it would depend on who I was with at the time.” he explained, rubbing the back of his neck and, realizing his hair was still down, snatching off the band around his wrist to tie it up. “Why? Going to try and set me up with Hawke again?”

“Why would I do that?” Fenris asked.

“Nearly everyone else has tried. Why not you too?”

That surprised him.

“You did not part on good terms?”

“She. . .well, you met her. She’s fearless. Says what she wants, does what she wants. Once upon a time, yeah, we would have done great together, but after Karl? I just. . .needed more stability, I guess. Didn’t help that hunters found me once and she came flying to my rescue. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive her for that.”

“You are upset because she saved you?” 

“Not because she saved me,” Anders said, picking a hair off his sleeve, “but because she risked herself to save me. She was nearly killed, you know. If that stake had been an inch to the left, I would have lost her.”

“Did you not give her up anyway?” Fenris pointed out.

“I guess I did. She seems happy enough with who she got, though.”

Not liking the way Anders was sidling once more, Fenris asked.

“What did you discuss with her? Outside?”

“Mostly you.”

Fenris gestured for him to proceed, subtly moving himself closer. He may not have much of a chance at catching him if Anders did flee, but he was not going to make it easy for him.

“I told her you have a history and that vampires being abusive toward you is a definite no-no so she needed to apologize and quit acting like a heathen or I would call her mother to come collect her.”

“You did not tell her I am a hunter or about the bond?”

“Oh, Maker, no. Fenris, she would have killed you on the spot.”

Feeling more than a little vulnerable at the bluntness of that revelation, Fenris moved again.

“Would she truly?”

“Her father was murdered by hunters, Fenris. Yes, she would have. The fact that I’m bonded to you would have been even worse in her eyes.” Anders told him seriously. “She’d consider it a liberation.”

“You would not?”

“I. . .don’t know. Bonding with you was probably pretty stupid on my part, but you haven’t given me a real reason to regret it. Yet.”

“Then why did you?”

“You were going to kill me, Fenris.” Anders reminded him, pain flashing briefly across his features. “And before you say anything, no, I could not have just killed you instead.”

“Yet you plot to kill a hunter once you locate her whereabouts?”

Anders’ eyes hardened as they focused on him. “Don’t.”

Despite how his knees nearly turned to water at the deadly promise in that voice, Fenris pushed, “You know I cannot allow you to do that.”

“Fenris, _don’t_.”

Ser-Pounce-A-Lot hissed, drawing Fenris’ attention to where the cat had sprung to the corner of the couch.

It turns out, that was all the distraction Anders needed.

The vampire vanished, already heading for the sliding glass as he did so. Fenris vaulted the couch in pursuit, narrowly avoiding razor sharp claws when he touched down on the other side. . .and heard the front door slam behind him.

Had Anders just－?

The text he received a moment later that read, _missed me, missed me, now you gotta. . ._ confirmed it.

Anders really had just faked Fenris out.

Ser Pounce-A-Lot was nearly as smug as his owner, strutting off the couch with his tail held high and a purr more worthy of a lion carrying over to where Fenris stood, incredulous. Unable to help himself, the elf started laughing harder than he had at Anders’ tasteless jab at Danarius.

This vampire was going to be the death of him, no doubt about it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuses for ya'll other than real life, Pokemon Moon, depression, Yuri!!! on Ice, shitty internet, incoming relatives from outta state, and election b.s. making me so unmotivated to work on this in a while. Not a very long chapter, I know, but quite a bit happens in it and we get a couple reveals! *le gasp* 
> 
> Hopefully, there was plenty of other good stuff circulating AO3 to keep ya'll busy. I happen to know that HeroMaggie and Skasha have some very awesome fenders stories *cough*go give em a read*cough*
> 
> Also, I remember reading something about Satinalia involving lots of revelry and masquerade so I tried to add that in this chapter. Can't remember if it was canon or fanon, though (does Bioware even know anymore, tbh?)
> 
> No nugs were harmed in the making of this chapter.

When Anders thought about it－and he rarely liked to－the chosen methods for vampire murder were frightfully creative. Not that it made them any more palatable.

The way Fenris described it, staking and burning was quick, but could be messy. The vampires were already dead when heaved out into the open for the sun to bake into easy-to-incorporate-into-dirt ash. The blood was a little harder to get rid of. It all sounded relatively painless compared to the alternatives, at any rate.

Anders wished Karl could have gone that way.

The phantom pain of a hot blade pressing into his throat and torso made Anders stop and gag, earning a look from Fenris to his right. The bond buzzed with curiosity.

When they had finally gotten together for a night of Wicked Grace, Isabela had insisted they go to _SatFest,_ a carnival-esque celebration held every year in Kirkwall’s massive city park for Satinalia, together. Anders hadn’t seen any real reason _not_ to go since it was on his day off and Varric had already acquired a ticket for him as well. Besides, he and Fenris had not had a real chance to talk after Hawke’s visit, excluding the occasional teasing text, and he figured the elf would string him up by his entrails if he turned the offer down. The cat-themed eye mask Fenris had stuck in his mailbox along with the cat treats had given the nurse a laugh, but the stake Fenris had discretely slipped under his jacket before getting out of the car had been a jarring enough wake-up call to the vampire to not get too comfortable.

“Are the smells bothering you?” Fenris asked under his breath so Isabela and Varric could not hear him. The two hunters followed just behind, already discussing which booth to visit first as they entered the fairgrounds proper. Fenris and Varric had forgone the tradition of hiding their faces, claiming paranoia when they could not see everything around them at any given moment. The spoilsports.

“No, I－it’s nothing. I’m fine.” Anders said.

Fenris ‘hmmed’ aloud and half-turned back to their companions, saying,

“Anders and I are going to find a bathroom. You two go ahead.”

“Just got here and already have to pee, huh?” Isabela asked. Her eyes shined with knowing through the holes in her fox mask, smirk curling the corner of her mouth.

“Find that skewered nug booth in the next twenty minutes and I’ll buy.” Fenris told her, jerking his head toward the festivities at large.

The bribe worked like a charm. Isabela seized Varric’s arm, ignoring the dwarf’s laughing protests, and took off past them on the hunt for rotisserie rodent on a stick.

“‘Skewered nug’?” Anders asked, wrinkling his nose. Fenris just shrugged.

“They are an acquired taste. Marginally better than blood-drinking the first time around, though.”

“I’ll take your word for it, but my blood wasn’t _that_ bad, was it?”

Amusement flitted across Fenris’ face as he looked over at him.

“If it is any consolation, it was mixed with mine when I had it.” he pointed out.

“Oh, yeah. That does make sense. You should really consider a little less nug and a little more leafy greens in your diet, Fenris. Felt like I was eating a salt lick last time.” Anders played along, nudging him with his shoulder.

“Bite me.”

“With all these children present? What _will_ people say?”

“That is not what I meant, but since you brought it up first,” Fenris said, stepping out of the way of a particularly enthusiastic fire juggler as they made their unhurried way down another row of brightly lit tents. “You have not been feeding.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Anders replied airily.

“Your empty fridge and my healed neck say otherwise, vampire.”

Anders inwardly cursed.

“Been poking around my apartment, have you?” he said, injecting as much ice into the question as he could muster.

“Out of concern.” Fenris said. “Remember, you have not allowed me over since I met your. . .friend.”

Despite how much he did not want to have the conversation Fenris insisted they have, Anders could not hold back a giggle at the way the word seemed to be dragged out of the elf.

“Still up in arms about Hawke? She’ll be pleased to hear she made such a lasting impression on you, truly.” he said, pausing before a tiny booth with hand-carved animals for sale.

“Stop avoiding the subject－what are you－?”

“Excuse me, how much for this one?” Anders asked the older man currently working on another piece behind the table.

“Eh?” the shaggy white head lifted so squinting eyes could regard Anders through thick, rimless glasses. “Oh, those are two for thirty. My granddaughter made them and she’s still training, you see.”

“Going to take over for you, is she?” Fenris asked, politely interested. Anders knew he had only delayed the inevitable.

“Someone has to, way my eyesight’s been these last few years. You may notice some of them ain’t the prettiest, but Marla shows promise, all the same.”

Anders studied the tiny cat charm necklaces where they hung on their stand. They definitely did not possess the detail and lifelike quality of the frisky feline statuettes lining the table but were precious, nonetheless. One particular charm bore a striking resemblance to Ser Pounce-A-Lot.

“I’ll take two, then.” Anders said, tugging a fifty marsh note out of his pocket and handing it over. Not for the first time, he was grateful he never had to worry about feeding himself through normal means or else he would probably still spend half his time starving with how quickly his money got spent.

“Go ahead and pick whichever you like.” the craftsman said as he riffled through the lock box at his feet for change.

“Fenris, which one do you like?” Anders asked, already untangling the one that reminded him of his special boy.

“The one with the fish is cute, I suppose.” Fenris said, looking more than slightly amused at Anders’ fascination with the tiny cats.

“It matches your hair.” Anders said, dropping it over the other’s head once he managed to unhook it. Fenris opened his mouth, no doubt to complain about money being spent on him, but the vampire hushed him. They had come out to have fun, after all. What was the point if Fenris was going to be a gloomy gustav about it?

While the elf stood, brow furrowed and a resigned sigh issuing from between his down-turned lips, Anders collected his change and written receipt before linking arms and dragging Fenris over to the dueling ring.

“I’m surprised Isabela didn’t sign up for something like this. She seems the type to enjoy carving people up with knives.” Anders pointed out as they watched the performers circle one another, blades drawn.

“She is, but only if she is allowed to go through their pockets afterwards.” Fenris said gently extricating his arm from Anders’ hold and earning himself a half-visible pout.

“I wonder if they found that booth. I mean, we never did find the bathrooms.”

“Were we ever actually _looking_ for them?” Fenris asked.

“Well, no.” Anders said, “but that’s because you just wanted them to leave poor little me all alone and defenseless with you.”

“A baseless accusation.”

“Hardly, you brute. Not that I mind. I mean, whatever we get up to together, I’m sure I’ll love it, but you really are crap at excuses to get me alone, Fenris.”

Flushing prettily, Fenris inhaled a big breath, and promptly started choking on it. Anders smirked and thumped him carefully between the shoulder blades, trying and failing to focus again on the duelists who had just finished and were taking their bows. He was probably being a little mean, but he and Fenris hadn’t gotten up to anything since Hawke’s untimely visit and Anders was all too willing for a much longer session in between the other’s legs. Fenris was as sexy as he was delicious and the moments of dry, if frighteningly astute, humor didn’t diminish Anders’ growing attraction to the elf either.

The stake, though. _That_ gave him reasonable pause.

Fenris was tempting, yes, but he was also a hunter. If the conversations (read: arguments) they had had about it were any indication, that would not be changing anytime soon. Fenris _hated_ vampires. Even if he did agree to bond with, feed, and occasionally fuck one, he had vowed to continue killing them in cold blood until either no longer capable or there were none left.

Anders suddenly did not feel so good about being an exception. Who knew how long it might actually last? A day? A month? Years? Could he stand being under such close scrutiny for so long? Anders had never taken well to the idea of being contained. Always pushed the boundaries others set for him if their grip was too tight. Ultimately, it had lost him his home as a teen. He had not had a stable relationship until Karl and even that had been his fault, at least partially. Anders just was not meant to have good things for long. Not without ruining them for himself, anyway.

Fenris, breathing normally once again, looked at him with enough concern to make Anders wish their situations were vastly different. He had never once regretted being turned since it had meant he could spend forever with the man he loved, but the slightly watery, beautiful green eyes gazing into his own only a few inches away caused the rare ‘what if?’ to begin swirling around Anders’ mind with all the desperate fumbling of a favored earring getting ready to be swept down a drain.

“Anders?” Fenris asked.

There was no point longing for what he simply could not have, but he craved it, all the same.

Anders opened his mouth to reassure him, but stopped cold when he heard _her_.

“－the sword competition is about to begin. You might want to get ready, Rutherford.”

Anders whipped his head around, eyes scanning the crowded field, hoping against all hope he was simply imagining things.

“－starting.” Fenris’ voice sounded uncomfortably far away.

“Huh?” Anders asked, not looking at him.

“I said, the sword fights are starting soon. Unless you wish to stay for it, we should make sure Isabela and Varric have not haggled someone down to their socks. They have a frightening capacity for trouble at these events.”

“Oh. Sure. That’s. . .fine.”

A gloved hand came to rest on both sides of his face and Anders’ head was pulled around until he was looking into Fenris’ eyes once more. He appeared somewhat shorter, Anders noted absently. In fact, they were practically the same height, with Fenris only half an inch on the shorter side.

“You do not look ‘fine’.” Fenris said seriously. “You are ‘whiter’ than usual and shaking. We can go back to the truck first and you can drink enough to tide you over if need be.”

“Were you wearing heels before?”

“What?”

“Your boots.” Anders nodded down at them, eyes still flicking about them at the ever-shifting tide of people pressing in for the fights. “You were taller when we first met.”

Fenris’ cheeks darkened once more and Anders fought the urge to run his tongue over one. Maybe hunger was getting to him after all and he was starting to hear things.

“They were a taller pair, yes.” the elf admitted, looking down at his shoes. “I only purchased these yesterday.”

“It’ll be easier to kiss you now, at least. I didn’t realize you were so tiny.”

Anders smiled as the blush spread to Fenris’ neck and ears.

“I－”

“－try and catch Dumar after his son’s performance. He _is_ here tonight, you said? Good. Try not to actually get skewered while I’m gone, though.”

That voice again.

 _She’s here_.

Anders fought down a snarl and scented the air until he caught the faintest trace of vanilla perfume and turned towards it.

She was older than he’d always imagined her being. Lines already making a permanent home around her thin lips and eyes. Cold, blue eyes. The eyes of a murderer within a face like Andraste’s Grace, white with the barest touches of rose in her high cheeks. Golden hair fell past her shoulders in loose curls, a stark contrast to the long-cut brown leather jacket she wore over her t-shirt and jeans. Anders might even have found her beautiful were she anyone else.

As it stood, he wanted to _bathe_ in her blood.

She turned to start heading back toward the booths and there, strapped to her back, was a sword. It blended in easily with the other dozens of fakes being carted around, but Anders knew better.

He started after her only to be stopped by a firm grip on his wrist.

“Vampire, where are you going?” Fenris asked.

“I think I’m going to go back and get more cats.” Anders lied tersely, eyes tracking the woman as she joined the throng of people coming and going to the ring. He cursed every step she took away from him.

“I will come with you.”

Fenris would never allow him his revenge if he followed. She would escape and he would probably be dead for having dared in the first place. “ _No._ ”

It was the wrong thing to say.

“You are not about to wander here alone.” Fenris’ voice had hardened considerably, fingers tightening their hold on Anders. “Not in the state you are in. It is not safe.”

Frustrated and growing ever more desperate the further she got, Anders tore his eyes away to growl in Fenris’ face.

Whether it was simply shock or something in his eyes, Fenris released him and took a step back looking. . .hurt. It was quickly replaced with anger, however. Anger that Anders did not linger to suffer, though the bond was hot with it. He was gone the next second, gaze raking over the other revelers until he found who he was looking for and he began the arduous process of tailing her.

The woman stopped at a couple stalls in her journey, but never to buy. She appeared to know several people from around the city and they greeted her with just as much frequency and not a little unease in the case of one or two tal-vashoth vendors. Anders vaguely wondered if she was a public figure of some sort. Aside from the day she ruined his life, he had never even seen her in the E.R.

Trying his best to remain inconspicuous in his following her every move, Anders had purchased a bag of roasted nuts at a nearby booth that he immediately passed over to a gaggle of children when they continued on their way through the festival. This happened three more times and, by the third time, Anders was certain he was going to run out of money before they finally reached a secluded enough place for him to rip out her throat and sate the thirst that had gnawed at him all week. Anders usually hated relying on Hawke’s kindness, but he could not help but be grateful when he thought of the blood she had promised to send him. He seriously doubted it would be nearly as satisfying as this would be, however.

Thankfully for his sanity (and his wallet), they finally reached the stadium where an Archdemon slaying show was being held and she turned down the path along the back where the actors campers were parked. There was barely any light to see by aside from the occasional flood that only lit up the side of the field. The noise of the cheering crowd drowned out the crunching of his shoes on the gravel path. It was perfect.

Anders called the shadows to him, heart hammering in his chest and making him giddy with nerves.

_It’s almost over, Karl._

He sent up an equally silent prayer as he made his way to her, running his tongue over the fangs that had been out since the moment Fenris mentioned feeding him. Anders supposed that would never happen again when he had finished with her. He would have to leave Kirkwall. Perhaps take Hawke up on the offer of Tevinter. He had always wanted to see it and would have no real reason to stay once Fenris had discovered what he’d done. He would be just another vampire to him once more. Hard as it was to run from the one one was bonded to, it was not impossible.

Now, if only he could convince himself that he _wanted_ to run from Fenris.

_Stop it, Anders. It isn’t like he’s actually your mate._

For all intents and purposes, he and Fenris had entered into something the elf didn’t even fully understand, so it wasn’t as though Anders could actually hold him to it. Their bond was as meaningless and empty to Fenris as their on-again-off-again friendship and Anders would not have it any other way, regardless of what his primal vampire mind might want from the joining.

Focusing once more on the task at hand and trying to ignore his cramping belly, Anders decided it was now or never as the woman neared a green camper. He launched himself at the her back, already reaching for her throat－

－and had to hurl himself to the ground a split-second afterwards.

She had drawn the sword and whirled on him with it, nearly taking his head clean off.

“I will admit you were admirably close,” she said silkily. Anders rolled to the side, dropping his illusion in his panic as the tip of her blade came down where his face had been a moment before, “but you fell a little short, abomination.”

As Anders scrambled to his feet, wondering how deep her connection was to her sword, she pulled the steel free and swung again. Anders fell back to avoid the blow. Getting his hands and knees under him, he struck out at her ankle with a foot, pleased to hear her scream of surprise as she went down.

Anders moved to knock the sword from her hands, amazed she had held onto it, but flinched as the scarlet blade glowed bright and hot. Truly, as though it were a living thing. It emitted a shrill screech that sounded like many voices chorusing in agony, repelling Anders and making him want to curl up in a silent ball and hide.

_Just like before._

Anders dropped back, hands pressed to his ears as the sound rose in volume. His voice had joined in the screaming, his mind being assaulted with images of Karl and of blood amongst whispers of ‘your fault’ and ‘coward’.

“How you have suffered,” Anders barely registered what she was saying with the cacophony in his mind, eyes fixed on the blurring earth beneath his knees. “allow me to end it for you.”

The clang of metal above him and the sudden silence of the sword brought Anders crashing back into the moment and he lifted his head to see Fenris and the woman standing over him, swords crossed.

“His life is mine, Meredith. Back off.” the elf said. He was holding a sword that looked to be from the dueling ring, though much larger than any sparring blade Anders had ever seen, and he might have been impressed anew at the strength in such a slight frame if he was not preoccupied with getting his rioting stomach under control.

“I should have known. You amateurs are always so soft with them.” the woman said, shooting a disgusted glance down at Anders, who hissed in response.

Fenris threw her back and moved to stand before Anders protectively.

“Fenris, don’t interfere.” he said, struggling to his feet.

“Shut up.” Fenris shot back without looking at him.

“It knows your name? You _are_ slipping up more than I thought.” Meredith said, raising the sword to come at them again. A slender, but unmistakable wooden object burying itself in the ground at her feet made her pause, however.

“How about we all calm down and talk this out?” a familiar and even more unwelcome voice called out and the three of them chanced a look up at the way they had come to see Varric, aiming a wicked-looking crossbow at them. There was a similar stake to the one in the ground protruding from the business end of the weapon.

 _So that’s what he’s been toting in that case this whole time._ Anders thought, swallowing thickly.

“I’m going to assume you don’t have a permit for that.” the woman named Meredith said and Fenris huffed a laugh.

“Oh, I promise you,” Varric said as he patted the side of the crossbow, “Bianca is as permissible as she gets in situations like this.”

“Exactly, _what_ situations would those be? The ones involving the assault of a member of city council?”

“More like the ones where a disgraced military captain and nugshit-crazy hunter is trying to slice up my friends when we just came out to have a good time, like everyone else.”

Each word was weighted in the way only Varric’s ever were and Anders hoped it meant he had not been there to witness him trying to strike first.

Then again, the dwarf did not miss much.

“I’ll make you an offer,” Varric continued, never once lowering the crossbow, “Go threaten the mayor as you please, have a nug on a stick, enjoy the rest of your evening, and let’s put this behind us like a _really_ bad date. Sound good, Stannard?”

The laugh the woman gave was hollow. It was even more empty than when. . .

 _Don’t go there, Anders._ Anders scolded himself, biting back a sob.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but this isn’t over. Vampires are monsters and have no rights to amnesty within the city.”

“I am well aware,” Varric said. His clever eyes roved over Anders briefly and he could tell the dwarf was smiling when he continued, “and I see no vampires here. Just two assholes who’ve clearly never heard of ‘the buddy system’.”

Anders looked at the pair of them, dumbstruck. He didn’t want protecting, he wanted her head on a plate.

“I. . .she needs to die.” Anders said, forcing his voice to work. He tried to shove past Fenris, but the hunter shoulder-checked him back.

“ _I_ need to die? Rich coming from a parasite.” Meredith said, moving into a defensive position once more.

“Nobody needs to die tonight, Blondie. Come on, let’s go find Isabela before she eats all the rat.”

The dwarf’s tone was as light as ever but brooked no argument if Anders wanted to live long enough to try again later. Still, he did not move, eyes boring into Meredith’s with as much promise he could inject into them.

“I _will_ make you pay for what you’ve done.” he said, baring his fangs.

“I look forward to you failing.” Meredith replied, sheathing her sword and backing away slowly. Only when she had disappeared into the nearby camper did they relax. Fenris half-dragged Anders, sword still in hand, to Varric and the three of them started back to the festival, checking over their shoulders the entire way.

Anders tugged his arm free of Fenris’ hold the moment they were back at the vendors.

“I told you not to interfere. Stop treating me like a child.” he bit out, putting distance between them.

“Perhaps I would if you would stop acting like one. You could have been killed.”

“Oh please, don’t act like the idea bothers you. You were just worried I would take _Meredith_ out with me.” Anders sneered. “Maker, Fenris, you _know_ her? Do you ‘work’ with _her_ too?”

“Not usually,” Varric cut in finally sliding the crossbow on its strap to rest against his broad back. “She has good leads sometimes, though. I’m guessing she’s how Broody here may have even known where to look for you.”

Anders could have drained Fenris at that bit of news.

“Actually, she didn’t.” the elf said, voice deceptively calm. “You were my mark only. I imagine Meredith does not recognize you as a vampire she failed to kill. She was chastising me for allowing you to get so close to a fellow hunter. One who believes herself superior to many of us.”

“Oh, well that’s a fucking relief.” Anders said, ripping his mask off in frustration and dragging his hands through his loose hair.

“Anders, promise me you will not go after Meredith again. I will have to stop you if you do.”

“Are you threatening me, you－”

“You went up against a master hunter, alone and half-starved. She is ruthless and will not hesitate to cut you down. I noticed you could not even resist the corruption of her lyrium sword. Leave. Her. Alone.”

“Bite. Me.”

Fenris grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled him close, looking for all the world like he was about to haul off and punch him in the nose. Anders took a sick sort of satisfaction in the fact that he would probably break his hand doing so.

“Hooookay,” Varric stepped up, placing a hand on each of their sides and trying to pry them apart while looking like he was doing no such thing. “As cute of a couple as you two make, I really don’t think anyone needs to see you trying to beat your love into each other. We’re nearly on the banned list as it is and people are starting to look at us. Break it up.”

Anders willed the very different heat that threatened to creep up his face to go down and, gently, extricated Fenris’ fingers from his shirt. The elf allowed it, in a similar state of embarrassment at the dwarf’s words as he hastened to clarify their relationship, or lack thereof.

That was when Anders noticed something else. He had picked up a trace of it before, when he had left the other at the dueling ring but it was stronger, almost kicking him in the chest with its potency.

Fenris was _scared_.

The tremors in his callused hands were not purely from how much he wished to hurt the vampire but a fear that actually caused Anders to feel slightly dizzy with how strongly it thrummed between them. What right did he have to be so frightened? Anders had been _so close_.

“ _You_ are taking this news well.” Fenris said to Varric, who only shrugged.

“I figured Blondie had to be pretty special to drag you from nursing your lifelong vendetta. I mean, yeah,” he gestured to Anders with an open palm, “it’s a little shocking that it’s because he’s a vamp, but any of them that try and do some good are all right in my book. Now, Rivaini. . . .”

“Do not breathe a word.”

“Do I look stupid to you?” Varric asked. He addressed Anders directly then, “Isabela wouldn’t be nearly as understanding of your. . .uh, condition. She’s had it rougher than we can imagine so it’s best we continue keeping this hush.”

“Oh, I can imagine it quite well.” Fenris said, eyes on Anders. Familiar rage had infused the bond and Anders could not help the roll of his eyes.

“Well, you won’t have to worry about keeping me ‘hush’. Enjoy the rest of your night. I’m going home.” he said, looking for the entrance.

“Blondie, you don’t have to leave－”

“No, I really do. I’m tired. I’ve been thwarted in the one thing that was the only reason I stuck around this shithole of a city so long and I am sure as shit not having the ‘all vampires deserve the sun’ conversation _again_. Good night all.”

Fenris stepped in his path and Anders found himself only just holding back socking him in the stomach.

But only _just_. His punches could kill, after all.

“What part of ‘you are not wandering alone when hungry’ have you not understood?” the hunter asked, sounding surprisingly tired himself. He reached for Anders’ hand saying, “At least have some of my blood before I take you home－”

Anders had had enough.

“I don’t need _you_ to take me home. I don’t _want_ your fucking blood.I want my mate back.” Anders’ tone was murderous, even to his own ears and he knew his fangs were on full display, but could not bring himself to care in the slightest as he glared into Fenris’ wide eyes.

He had not been that loud, but the area around them grew deathly quiet. Or maybe that was due to the rushing in Anders’ ears. The hurt from before seeped into his very bones, choking and miserable. Fenris’ hand fell away from him.

Varric gave a low whistle, shuffling awkwardly from foot to foot and looking anywhere but at them.

Before Fenris could recover enough to say something even more scathing, Anders was sure, Isabela chose that moment to sidle up to their group, several rods of roasted nug in both her hands.

“Pay up, sweetheart. I found it in _ten_. They didn’t have a whole lot made at the time, though, so yours might be a little cold.” she said to Fenris, grinning from ear to ear and looking very fox-like indeed. The smile slipped off her face as she took in the faces of her companions.

“What’d I miss? Was it funny? Was it _dirty_? Why am I never around when the good things happen?” she asked Varric, pouting. The dwarf forced a laugh and took one of the nugs from her, tearing off a bite with his fingers.

“Lover’s quarrel. Not really something you want to watch, trust me.” he told her, looking between the silent pair with poorly concealed concern.

Anders shoved past Fenris, ready to be away from the lights and noise and the _look_ the elf was giving him. As though Anders had torn out his still-beating heart and bitten it. Not to mention the unexpected ache his words had induced. It made him feel guilty and Anders wanted to feel pissed, which he still very much was. As he drew further from the fairgrounds and closer to his complex, however, the vampire felt warm blood tracking down his cheeks and prayed he didn’t run into anyone before he could get inside. The mask he donned once more would only hide so much and vampires did not inspire much confidence in people, as the night had proven.

The moment Anders let himself in the door, he slammed it shut behind him and locked it, sliding down to sit on the pawprint welcome mat. Ser-Pounce-A-Lot was at his side immediately with questions.

 _You are crying. Why are you crying? You told us you would be having fun. Crying is not having fun, Anders._ He meowed, headbutting Anders’ thigh even as the other three hung back, unsure if their approach would be welcome, but no less curious.

“I had fun.” Anders lied, smearing the blood across his cheek with the back of his hand. “I got something that looks like you.”

He showed them the charm necklace even if all he wanted to do was toss it across the room.

Ms. Mittens laughed in her rusty manner at the trinket, Captain Chokey _mrrred_ at it as if to say ‘why didn’t you get one of me?’, and Bendytwiggs moved nearer to sniff at it. Ser-Pouce-A-Lot was not impressed at the comparison, however.

_It is smiling. Cats do not smile._

Anders shrugged, looking down at his knees.

 _Tell me._ The cat insisted. _Was it the hunter? I have told you he is nothing but trouble._

Anders could still feel the burn of anger in the pit of his stomach. Whether it was his or Fenris’, he was unsure. He was not looking forward to the visit the hunter would no doubt pay him once he had cooled off.

Not for the first time, Anders wished he had somewhere to go to just get away from everything for awhile. It wasn’t like he didn’t have plenty of vacation days saved up. He just needed a location. Somewhere not too far from his target, but where Fenris couldn’t just drop in on him if he decided the vampire was too much of a risk to keep around. Anders wanted space and safety, dammit, even if it was only temporary.

Almost as if the Maker had heard him, an idea popped to the forefront of Anders’ mind and he forced a small smile for his furry family.

“How would you all. . .like to go visit Hawke for a bit?” he asked them.

With the exception of Ser Pounce, everyone purred at the suggestion.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well well, what have we here?
> 
> A chapter. After an entire fucking age, it feels like. So sorry about that, as usual. It is also rather short and not a whole lot occurs but that's partly because these next two chapters are two pieces of one period of time so to continue, we have to see the other side of the coin as well. 
> 
> Also, I would like to take some time to explain some things about this world since I feel I am doing a piss poor job of that too:
> 
> Essentially, vampires, demons, spirits, etc. are all things that exist in the Thedas, BUT. . .there are only a few that the general populace is made privy to. For reasons of keeping the sheep docile and happy, basically. The ones that know have either been victims of the big bad beings (paid very well to keep their silence) or hunt them. Also, magic (as in, general magic that mages have and can tap into) does NOT exist. Why is this? Well, a long time ago, some mages got together and decided the only way for them to be treated as equal citizens under the law was to, essentially, do the opposite of what Solas wants to do and remove magic from the world. So, using an absolutely massive blood ritual with themselves as the sacrifice, they sealed away the Fade completely. Well, almost completely. Some things that knew what the mages planned slipped through. Some happened to be the first vampiric spirits that infected certain powerful individuals who then passed the curse/disease along until we have the vampires of present day Thedas who try to live in secret for the most part. There were also creatures on the mortal side of the Fade who are sort of trapped that way as well that hunters try and reduce to keep them from attacking hapless civilians.
> 
> Maybe I will start adding this little explanations from now on since I did the thing where I accidentally created a whole other world while plotting a fanfic. Bear with my ass, and thank you for putting up with me this long. Hope you enjoy the chapter!

Two weeks.

That is how long Anders had been gone but, to Fenris, it as was as though two years had passed since he had seen the vampire. No messages or calls letting him know where he’d gone. Fenris had even broken into Anders’ apartment again to try and find clues and had been struck anew by the lack of cats hissing at him. He had asked his neighbors, Kervana, the other nurses on duty, even the mail carrier if they knew where Anders was only to get shrugs and ‘I don’t know, he didn’t really say’s.

It wasn’t until he felt that old affection in the Anders’ Zone and had very vivid dreams of Anders feeding from a wrist that was not his that Fenris knew where he had fled to. Cursing the bond, Anders, and the fact that he had not pushed for Hawke’s address, Fenris retreated further into himself until he only ever left the trailer to hunt and buy more wine. Sleep had never come easy to him to begin with, but with the added stress of Anders’ not being near and the dreams, it took quite a bit more alcohol than usual to try and drown out the desperate longing that prowled the bond like a restless animal.

Fenris texted every day since he discovered the vampire’s absence. Angry at first, then regretful. Apologized in every language he knew. Cursed in equal measure. Stuffed the cat necklace and borrowed shirt under his bed where he didn’t have to look at them as reminders of what he was lacking. Much as Fenris hated begging, he had come embarrassingly close to it every time. He wanted－no, _needed_ －Anders to respond. To return and assure him that he was all right. That Fenris was needed just as much.

Isabela and Varric had been, understandably, worried about just how distracted Fenris had been. They asked after him and Anders, demanded he eat, dragged him out with them to try and get him out of his own mind for a while. While Fenris appreciated their efforts to comfort, he could not say he appreciated the nagging and hovering. It was too much like before. He hated it. Hated that he was causing them to put their own lives on hold for him yet again. Fenris isolated himself even more.

It was whilst in the middle of contemplating another bottle of Aggregio and staring at his phone, that a knock rattled his trailer door.

“Fenris.” came Varric’s gentle, but firm, command.

Fenris did not reply, mentally willing the dwarf to leave him alone.

“We need to talk about this. Now.”

When Fenris continued to ignore his friend, there came a faint clicking at the lock before the door swung wide.

Not surprised, but displeased all the same that Varric had picked his lock, Fenris glared as the other came to stand before his bed.

“Up.” Varric said. He looked no angrier than usual, his trademark grin in place. The corners of his eyes were pinched, however, shadows beneath the lids giving away the sleepless nights he was enduring as well.

“And if I refuse?” Fenris asked, wincing inwardly at how rough his voice sounded.

“Then I sit on you.” Varric replied. “If that doesn’t work, then I start _singing_.”

Fenris winced on the outside this time.

“Is this an intervention? I am surprised you did not enlist Isabela’s help.”

“Oh, she would have been for it, believe me. I figured the subject matter would be slightly more disturbing to her than your impressive bout of brooding, though.”

“Varric, please.” Fenris all but whined.

“Look, I tried to give you time to get over it.” Varric held up a hand and gestured at Fenris’ buzzed and lounging state, “and I might not know everything that’s going on between you two, but this isn’t healthy. You’ve got to shake this off, Broody.”

“I do not think I can.” Fenris admitted in a small voice. “I did not expect it to feel like this.”

“Expect _what_ to feel like this?”

“The bond. It is eating away at what sanity I have left, I swear it.”

Varric looked confused only a moment before his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.

“‘Bond’? As in, a _blood_ bond? You made a blood bond with Anders?”

“I did it to keep him in check.” Fenris said curling up in a futile attempt to escape the incredulous look Varric was giving him.

“And how’s that working out for you since, from where I’m standing, it looks like _you’re_ the one being kept ‘in check’?”

“He was not supposed to leave. I should not have _let_ him leave.”

“You shouldn’t have done a lot of things, elf, but I was there that night. There wasn’t much you could do; Anders wanted nothing you were offering. Which, by the way,”

Fenris heaved a sigh. He had known this was coming as well.

“Yes?” he prompted.

“You’ve been _feeding_ him? Have I got that right?”

“If I say no, will you get out?”

“ _Fenris._ ”

“Only once or twice a week. He barely eats, Varric. He relies on stolen bagged blood for the majority of his nutrition.”

He chanced a look up at Varric, who had placed a hand over his eyes and was shaking his head, “Broody, you fell all the way down the hole, didn’t you?”

“If I just knew where he’s hiding, maybe I could fix this.” Fenris said.

“How? Gonna kill him?”

The thought made Fenris’ blood run cold. Sure, he had known and accepted that he might one day have to, but just how could he? Anders had been so upset the night of the festival, the Anders Zone was more like an open wound that had festered when he wasn’t looking. Fangs flashing, eyes burning with so much rage it hurt to even look at him, beautiful as he was. That old pain had settled in the same spot in Fenris, just beneath his ribs, nearly bringing him to his knees. Anders pined for a mate that was long gone. A mate that was certainly _not_ Fenris.

He had absolutely no right to feel as rejected as he did but that knowledge certainly didn’t stop him.

“No, I－I just want to talk to him. Tell him I’m sorry, maybe.”

“How do you know he wants to talk to you, though?” Varric asked, “I mean, you said he took off without even telling you when he’d be back and isn’t replying to the bajillion messages you’ve sent. That doesn’t sound like someone who wants to sort this out over a drink. Not one that isn’t coming out of your neck, anyway.”

“Not funny.” Fenris said, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the light filtering in through his half-closed blinds from the setting sun.

“Okay, you’re right, but at least get up and we can try and figure out something over dinner. Rivaini won’t be there. She had a meeting with Aveline, she said.”

“Not hungry.”

“Now, I _know_ that’s a lie.” Fenris heard the clink of the empty wine bottles near the foot of his bed, like Varric had nudged them with his foot. “You’re small enough without skipping meals. Get. Up.”

“I will have to shower, you know.”

“I’ll wait.”

The task was much harder than it should have been, but Fenris finally managed to lever himself out of bed and trudge into his frustratingly small bathroom. Under the scalding spray of the shower head, he briefly considered never leaving, but Varric was being infinitely more patient with him than he even deserved. He would have put himself out of his misery weeks ago if placed in the same position. How ridiculous that a cup of shared blood could affect him so much.

But it wasn’t just the blood, was it?

Every time Fenris closed his eyes, he saw Anders as he had been that night. Angry and betrayed. Regardless of how his emotions fluctuated now that he was Maker only knew where, Fenris didn’t think he could ever forget the way Anders had looked at him. As if _he_ was the monster in the equation.

Forcing his eyes open once more, Fenris reached for his shampoo.

*~*

“So, you feel him in your head? Like, all the time?” Varric asked looking equal parts disturbed and intrigued.

“In a manner of speaking.” Fenris confirmed. He pushed his steak around on his plate as if it would somehow motivate him into actually eating it. “I cannot read his thoughts, but I know if he is in bad spirits or hurt. I feel the emotions as though they are my own.”

“What about now?”

“Now?”

“Yeah, how is he feeling right this second?”

Fenris checked in to the Anders Zone with no more effort than he would exert to take a breath, allowing himself a small smile when he was met with the mild but building panic that often accompanied Anders waking up late. It calmed quickly enough, do doubt due to Anders remembering he was not going to work that evening, and was replaced by a brief pang of regret and annoyance. Everything else was mired in the overwhelming grief and anxiety from the extended separation. The smile was wiped off Fenris’ face.

“He is struggling with his new schedule and is not happy to have been, in his eyes, run out of his home for the time being.” Fenris informed Varric as he picked up his knife and made an attempt on his dinner.

“You got all that from just being bonded?” Varric asked, sounding impressed. His sandwich was already gone, but he nursed his beer in an entirely too casual way. The dwarf was nothing if not stubborn when it came to making sure his friends were taking care of themselves.

“There is a bit of translation involved, but yes.”

“We all know you could have a career in that if you really wanted it, Ser Fluent-In-Three-Languages.”

“Four.”

“Excuse me?”

“Isabela has been teaching me Rivaini in our off evenings.”

“Why the Void _didn’t_ you go to college again?”

Fenris shrugged. “I wanted my sister to go more, I suppose.”

“They got scholarships, you know.”

“Money was not the only issue.” Fenris said, sawing at the meat disinterestedly. Figured the steak was almost nothing but gristle. And overcooked as well.

“Want to order something else?” Varric asked.

“Not really.” Fenris replied, giving up and digging into his potatoes instead.

“If you’re sure. Just say the word if you change your mind.”

“Mmphf.”

“It was your mom, wasn’t it?”

Fenris paused in his robotic chewing, glancing at Varric who looked understanding, not judgmental. He swallowed hard.

“She needed one of us nearby when her hands began to fail her. As the eldest, I figured it only made sense that I－”

“Nah, I can relate. Not as an _older_ brother, I guess, but it makes sense to me.” Varric laughed, taking another pull off his bottle.

“Thank you again for paying Varania’s tuition. I swear I will find a way to pay you back someday.”

Varric waved his gratitude off.

“Fenris, we’ve been over this. You and your family don’t owe me anything. It’s not like I have any kids to leave this stuff to and Bartrand. . .”

Fenris opened his mouth to apologize but what good would that do anyone? Varric’s brother had been dead long before the two of them had even met and, from what Varric had told him, the pair had not been especially close. ‘Ever on the verge of estrangement’ in the dwarf’s own words.

“Well, where that bastard’s landed himself, he sure won’t need any of it. I might as well spoil my friends like a doting father.” Varric finished, eyes lighting back up even though his grin was somewhat strained.

“I did not even think of how this situation might be affecting you,” Fenris said, pushing his plate away entirely and hoping against hope that Varric would let it go for the time being, “I am sorry for not having more control over it.”

“What? Of Anders? Psssht.” Varric snorted. “That ain’t somebody you can really control, from what I gathered. He’s truly not like any of the vamps we’ve faced before.”

“Be that as it may, he－”

“－is all right by me. Look Broody,” Varric said, voice dropping lower as the waitstaff made their rounds near their table. “Anders has the potential to be a problem. All vampires do. We know that. We anticipate and prepare for that. We’ve seen them at their absolute worst and most destructive. If all he’s done is threaten _Meredith Stannard_ , the woman who has been out to get small-time slayers like us and put Aveline and Donnic out of a job for _years_ , I can’t help but root for him a little.”

Fenris had to admit, much as he hated it, Varric had a point. Meredith was rarely merciful, even to those who were on her side, and had a corrosive reach within the whole of Kirkwall. Possibly even Orlais and Fereldan as well. The mayor certainly wouldn’t stand against her even if she weren’t on the city council and the head of the Magical Creature Extermination League. Most of the public admired her and regarded her as a perfect role model of what an hunter _should_ be. Meredith was easily the most respected figure in Southern Thedas after the brave Circle mages that had sacrificed themselves to erect a more impermeable barrier to the Fade.

“Besides, I think he’s had a good influence on you. That might just be the bond, though.”

Fenris was brought out of his thoughts by a faint burning in his cheeks.

“What?” he asked, regarding Varric suspiciously.

“You smile more when he’s around, for starters. Drink less too. Is that because _he_ drinks more?”

“Varric.” Fenris fiddled with his napkin, willing the blood in his face to go down with everything he had.

“I just have to mess with you a bit, Broody, you know that. I’ll be honest, I didn’t think you enjoyed being bitten enough to ever let it happen again.”

Forget simply trying to get rid of his blush, Fenris wanted the floor to open up and swallow him.

“How did you know?” he gasped out, eyes darting around the restaurant to make sure no one was listening in.

“I’ve heard from some of the folks we’ve managed to save that being bitten by one of them can be a pleasurable experience. From what you told me about falling into Danarius’ trap and all the hickies you’ve shown up with after ‘a night out’, I just connected the dots. I was right, wasn’t I?”

“It－I－We－” Fenris tried to come up with some excuse, but kept drawing a blank.

“Look, I don’t care what floats your boat as long as you’re being smart about it. It helps that Blondie is a nurse. He’s bound to be able to put you back together if you go too far with it.”

“You talk as if he will be back any moment.” Fenris said, sinking down in his seat a little.

“He will. Even if it’s not for you, I doubt he’s going to give up on Stannard that easily. You seriously have no idea where he could be?”

“I know who he is with, but it does me no good if I do not know where that is.”

“I might know the name, if you tell me.” Varric suggested.

“He went to. . .”

Hawke.

Anders was with Hawke. Feeding on Hawke, who was also a vampire.

The cogs in Fenris’ mind began to turn, faster and faster.

Anders was feeding from Hawke, who would need to feed more often as a result. She andMerrill had mentioned they typically hunted together. . .

Hawke and Merrill hunted together _at the docks_.

Fenris got to his feet so suddenly, he got a head rush and had to sit back down.

“Easy.” Varric looked utterly confused. “What－?”

“I know how to find out where he is. I know where to go.” Fenris said quickly, forcing down his dizziness.

“Excuse me, can we get the bill over here, please?”

*~*

“Why did you have to invite Isabela along for this?” Fenris asked, just barely managing to keep from sprinting when the fish-scented harbor came into view.

“She wanted to see how you were. How was I supposed to know she was going to show up here tonight?” Varric said, scratching the back of his neck. “How do you even know they’ll be _here_ tonight?”

“I don’t, I am just hoping.”

“Great.”

“What are you two whispering about up there?” Isabela asked behind them.

“Boring guy problems. Don’t concern yourself with it.” Varric said winningly.

“Hey,” she quickened her pace and shoved her way between them. “There will be absolutely none of that sexist shit while I’m still alive. Fenris, you look a little better today. . .if better looked like death, I mean. Hear from Anders, then?”

“Ah, no. Not yet.”

Ignoring Isabela’s clicking tongue and more inappropriate questions, Fenris stalked alongside the boat rental shack, peering around the corner for any sign of Hawke.

“Are you. . .on a job, right now?” Isabela dropped easily into a fighting stance as she slowly removed one of the knives hidden on her at all times.

“No, but I am hoping to find someone rather unpredictable here.” Fenris said, motioning to Varric behind her back not to say anything.

“I’ll look on the other side for them if you want.” Isabela offered with a shrug, tucking her knife away just as quickly as she had drawn it. “Got nothing better to do since the MCEL started taking all the good jobs in Kirkwall. Damn poachers.”

Praying that he would find them first if they were there, Fenris agreed if only to give himself enough time to interrogate Hawke.

“I’ll give a whistle if I find someone other than the usual gross customers.” Isabela promised, disappearing into the shadows as though she were made of them.

“Varric,” Fenris began.

“I’ll watch Rivaini, don’t worry. You be careful, and don’t be shy of whistling if you need us either.”

And with that, Fenris was alone.

Taking a deep breath, he started for the right stretch of the docks, cautious not to spook the vampires lest they go on the defense. Having Isabela present on this particular mission complicated things, no doubt. Fenris knew that, should she happen to uncover Anders’ true nature, he would have little choice but to endure her distrust and scathing judgement for however long it might last. Possibly even her attempting to kill Anders to “free” him from the vampire’s influence. Isabela, like Fenris and Varric, trusted very few people and had a hatred for vampires that could give Fenris a run for his money some days. Much as he believed she would eventually come around, the blow to their friendship would be significant and not without serious risks all on its own.

Fenris cursed as came to another deserted corner surrounded by shrimping boats and started to double back around, but was stopped by an unnaturally strong grip on his arm. Reaching into his jacket for a weapon, he nearly missed the whispered ‘boo’ against his ear.

“Hawke.” Fenris grunted, forcing himself to relax even as he glared into the glittering eyes over his shoulder.

“Fenris.” she replied, a sly smile turning up the corners of her mouth. Her color was healthier than when they’d last met and the hand that had slid to his wrist before releasing him completely was warm to the touch. “Couldn’t resist. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Fenris’ gaze traveled past Hawke to see Merrill standing a few feet behind, cheeks ruddy even in the dim light of the docks. He had caught them just in time; they had just finished feeding.

No sense in beating about the bush then.

“I tracked you down to ask after Anders.” Fenris said.

“Who?” Hawke asked, stepping back to loop her arm around her mate’s waist. She nuzzled her face against Merrill’s throat, posture relaxed and unconcerned, but Fenris caught the twitch of her mouth. As though she were attempting to hold back a smile.

“Anders. I know he is staying with you. The man doesn’t have that many friends to run to here.”

“Sorry. That name isn’t ringing a bell. ‘Fraid you need to keep trying elsewhere.”

“Hawke.” Merrill chided, gently nudging her with her sweater-clad shoulder.

“Please don’t tell me you’re taking his side, love.” Hawke said, her expression disbelieving as she pulled back and looked down at the elf.

“Not really. He made a proper ass of himself, but. . .he _misses_ Anders. He came all the way here just to find him. Fenris obviously cares and wants to make up for it.”

Merrill gave Fenris a look he couldn’t completely decipher, but she seemed to want him to go along with her. Letting go of the fact that she was reading his mind without his permission for the moment, tried a different tactic.

“I just want to know if he’s all right.” he said, surprised by how true it was. “That he is actually eating for a change and not doing anything stupid.”

“He’s getting what he needs, don’t you worry about that.” Hawke said, haughtily. “What I want to know is what you’ve done to him.”

“Excuse me?” Fenris asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You’ve got working ears. He came to us in tears, practically begging me to let him stay until the move. I told you I wouldn’t put up with you hurting him.”

“ _Geldie._ ” Merrill bit her lip as if holding back from telling her mate something she would regret and shot a guilty look Fenris’ way. “He misses you too.”

“Merrill.”

“He should know. Anders. . .misses you, but he’s so _scared._ Haven’t you picked up on that yet?”

Fenris truly hadn’t. Not through his own fear and feelings of abandonment, at any rate. Maybe that was part of the problem. Varric often warned him that his own emotions had a tendency of overwhelming him and blocking out everything else. If it was as Merrill claimed, then he had more to apologize for than he originally thought.

“You two should talk more.” Merrill suggested, leaning into Hawke’s side. “It really helps us.”

“We’re also bonded, babe.” Hawke reminded her, dropping a kiss on her hair. “That makes a big difference.”

“So are they.” Merrill replied, freezing in the middle of a casual shrug. She clapped a hand to her mouth, eyes going round as saucers and turning toward Fenris who only sighed and dropped his head into his hand. Well, that was one secret out. Again.

“What?” Hawke asked looking between the pair of them with something akin to horror molding her features.

“I’m sorry.” Merrill said through her fingers. “I didn’t mean to－”

“There you are. I was starting to think you were being gutted and dumped in the harbor. Lots of creepers on the docks at night.”

Fenris thought frantically at Merrill to make sure she and Hawke kept their mouths shut as Isabela and Varric came to stand on either side of him.

“As if I would be so easily murdered.” Fenris scoffed as he placed himself between Isabela and the vampires.

“You never do know, though, do you?” Isabela said with a laugh. Varric merely lifted a brow at Fenris after glancing to the pair behind him and the elf gave a minute nod.

“Friends of yours, Fenris? Color me surprised. You didn’t seem the type to really care for any.” Hawke said, thoughts on Fenris and Anders being bonded temporarily derailed, but the elf was not foolish enough to think she had forgotten.

“Who is this lovely couple, Fenris, and why haven’t you shared before now?” Isabela’s eyes roved over Hawke’s hoodie-and-jean clad form with salacious curiosity as she leaned around Fenris to ogle properly.

“Friends of Anders.” he offered, hoping she would simply let it go, but it was not to be.

“Hi. I’m Isabela.” Isabela said, digging her heel into the top of Fenris’s foot to get him to stop trying to coax her further backward, and damn if it didn’t work, even through his boot. An easy smile spread across her face at his grunt of pain and glare.

“Hi.” Hawke replied, gaze raking down Isabela’s form with what, Fenris was horrified to realize, was interest. It was most certainly time to leave.

“I want him to call me,” he said, stepping once more in front of Isabela to shield her. “I want to apologize to him, preferably in person, but I will settle for the phone.”

“I think I can manage that much. Whether he’ll do it or not is entirely up to him, though.” Hawke said, eyes not leaving what little of Isabela she could still see. Unfortunately, Merrill seemed not to have noticed the attention or, worse still, she did and did not care. Fenris remembered her being the one to mention that they “did not minding sharing” and did his best to be subtle while backing himself and Isabela away.

“I trust your ability to influence him.” Fenris said honestly, ignoring Isabela’s annoyed huff as she tried to step past him and he crowded her further back.

“Not even going to bother introducing us?” she asked, wrapping both her arms around his.

“Best not to, all things considered.” Fenris muttered.

“What, they got rabies or something?”

 _You have no idea._ Fenris thought with grim amusement.

“Well, that’s not very nice.” Merrill chided him.

“I don’t know about rabies,” Hawke said, eyes twinkling with mischief, “but I have been known to bite on occasion. Name’s Geldina Hawke. Mostly go by Hawke these days since I’m the only one who kept our dad’s name in my family. This is Merrill.”

“Oh, really now? Isabela.” Isabela purred and Fenris barely resisted hauling her away under his arm at a dead run. Only partly because he did not wish to contend with a dagger in his thigh for his trouble. It would not be the first time Isabela stabbed him for getting in her way, either.

“Varric Tethras, at your service. Fenris said you two were interesting, but I’m starting to think he understated it.” Varric said, stepping a little closer to the pair.

“Did he now?” Hawke’s eyes bore into Fenris’. They were even darker in the spotty lighting of the docks, twin black holes of suspicion.

“If Anders does decide to take you back, you had better lay on the lovin’. He’s _still_ pretty upset, after all.”

“Oh, so this whole thing is your fault then? Whad’you do, stuff your foot in your mouth again?” Isabela rounded on Fenris who gaped at her. _How_ were they even having this conversation? He comforted himself with the knowledge that if she only knew the truth, Isabela would not hesitate to take his side. Maybe.

“An excellent question. Anders still won’t tell _me_ and I’m the closest thing to a bestie the man’s got.” Hawke sniffed, adopting a hurt look and clinging to Merrill more.

“It’s really best if they sort it themselves.” Merrill said. “It’s their business.”

“Truer words were never spoken, Daisy.” Varric laughed.

She looked confused. “No, I’m _Merrill_.”

“Merrill who seems so delicate and bright, she reminds me of a daisy.” he explained without missing a beat.

“Oh. That’s. . .well, I can’t say I’ve ever had a nickname before. Except the ones Geldie calls me. Those are－”

Her gaze unfocused a bit and she flushed up to the tips of her pointed ears before giving herself a little shake and clearing her throat quickly. Hawke, to Fenris’ disgust, looked smug.

“Doesn’t matter, really.” Merrill interrupted herself, still flustered. “I like ‘Daisy’. Daisies are pretty flowers.”

“Varric likes to name friends. Even potential friends. Sometimes buildings. Stray dogs.” Isabela sighed, but her expression was fond.

“Cars. His crossbow. The wandering drunks who camp out in front of his apartment building.” Fenris continued completely deadpan.

“ ‘Crossbow’? Why would anyone own a crossbow in Kirkwall?” Hawke asked, one of her thick brows raising slightly.

“I go hunting on the weekends.” Varric offered smoothly. Fenris nearly choked on his tongue. The bond was alive with concerned curiosity suddenly and he had to wonder what sort of acrobatics his emotions were doing for Anders to bother noticing.

“Oh really? For what?” Merrill asked, tilting her head to the side. “There’s not much in the woods around here other than halla and bears. Those are protected, of course. Unless you－oh.”

All eyes landed on the elf as realization dawned on her but, to Merrill’s credit, she carried on as if she didn’t know she and her mate were in the presence of monster hunters.

“There _are_ rabbits, I suppose. And birds. Perfectly normal things to hunt.” she said, giving Fenris a nervous smile. He swore he was being punished for something, he just didn’t know what. Maybe a crime in another life?

“Gotta be prepared, though, since there are some things out there that just seem to exist to get you, protected or not.”

The words were pointed, Varric testing just how much of a threat these beings were, but Hawke’s snort cut through the tense atmosphere.

“That’s what my brother always says. I think he just really wants to prove how manly and capable he is by bagging a huge bear someday. The one time he managed to catch a decent-sized duck, though, Bethy and Mom cried.”

“Your brother hunts?” Fenris asked, curious despite his mounting worry of being found out.

“Hardly. We like to go camping sometimes at the lake. My family owns the land there so it’s not like we have to pay for anything other than the taxes and groceries.” Hawke replied.

“Not Lake Champion? You _own_ that?” Varric asked, incredulous. Fenris couldn’t help a faint smile. While Varric may not be much of an game hunter, the dwarf _loved_ to fish. Lake Champion was the biggest body of fresh water in the Free Marches and, much like The Hanged Man, the bar beneath his apartment, Varric had had his eye on it for as long as Fenris had been alive.

“Most of it, yeah. The really nice parts, anyway.”

Varric murmured something in the vein of ‘foiled by the humans again’, shaking his head.

“Maybe we can all go stay there someday once we know each other better. That is, if these two can ever work things out.”

Hawke waved a hand at Fenris before planting it on her hip and giving him a bored look. Fenris could feel the nose wrinkles Anders obsessed over as his lip curled and he glared steadily back at her.

“Oh, they will, I think. We’ll give Anders your message, Fenris. Keep your phone close. He seems. . .like he really would like to talk to you so. . .be nice and patient with him. _Talk._ ” Merrill told him. She laced her fingers between her mate’s and began to tug her back toward the city. “Nice meeting you, Varric. Isabela.”

“Nice meeting you too, Kitten.”

“ _Two_ nicknames in one night? That’s nice too, though, isn’t it? As long as they never talk about real kittens. Or daisies. That would be confusing. I really－Oh, shut up, Merrill.”

“Have a safe evening, everyone.” Hawke called over her shoulder. Her gaze found Fenris again before they turned a corner and seemed to send a mild, but very clear warning. Fenris returned it with a solemn nod. It was more than he had at the start of the evening and, pathetic as it probably made him seem, he would take it.

“We have to stop leaving you alone if you’re going to keep meeting such sexy people then not telling us, Fenris.” Isabela sighed, sounding wistful.

“Then you would expect me to share with you, wouldn’t you?” Fenris said, still staring at the spot where Hawke and Merrill had disappeared. “Maker knows you could do with a little less of that, in any case. Well, at least your doctor does. How many times _have_ you had to get tested this year?”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“Give her a break, Broody.” Varric said, already starting for home. “She _did_ pay for the man’s new car, so I’d say they’re even.”

“See? It pays to know _me._ In the long run, at least.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hokay so a list of things that have put this chapter waaaaay off schedule:  
> -I got a new job (more demanding than my last one; I work nights now)  
> -I am now the proud renny of four-count 'em four-adorable rats that keep me hoppin'  
> -I ice skate now. Like, I'm taking classes and everything. Almost out of Adult Basics, but we'll see if these new skates serve me well enough to hop into freestyle immediately after I've passed  
> -I think my depression's getting bad again and sleep has been my only solace in these dark dark (political) days
> 
> I can't promise a regular schedule now, because this chapter has been done for a while I just kept putting off finishing it and the only reason I have finished is because I had three days off to do so (my hours have already been cut since the holiday season is over with). Those of you who follow my Tumblr probs already knew most of this, but just in case, I figured I better put it here in condensed form.
> 
> To get into the story notes: Yeah, this chapter was supposed to end on a happy note (like was literally written in the rough draft) and my brain said 'psssht balls to that' and we got this ending instead. I am not sorry, but if it consoles anyone there is another universe out there where I posted that version for you instead.
> 
> Spirits are rarely seen since the Fade was closed off. They were never that big on interacting with mortals to begin with (according to several sources in canon) but the few who were locked out of the Fade tend to just body jump as they live out the centuries in the mundane world. It is believed they have all been killed off due to being confused for demons or eventually becoming demons through corruption. So, Justice!Pounce is very much a thing. . .for now. Enjoy.
> 
> [EDIT] Freakin texting dialogue got erased because I used a character my script could not convert so if the convo made no sense between them that's why. Should be fixed now, though.

Anders sank down further into the lavender scented bubbles surrounding him with a tired sigh. While he jumped for the chance to take an honest-to-Maker bubble bath like a child for cake when Hawke offered, he could not bring himself to regret it one bit. The last few days had been something of a ride. Steady resentment, then guilt, then an ache followed swiftly by a rush of adrenaline had been the pattern of emotions through the bond and it had left Anders dizzy and drained. A small, petty part of him was pleased that Fenris was suffering so much, but mostly, Anders just felt horrible. The elf had texted so often, Anders turned his cellphone off to avoid the bombardment of worried and angry messages. He could barely resist responding to a distressed bondmate as it was, why make it harder on himself?

Anders scooped up a handful of bubbles and blew them across the wide tub at where Ser Pounce-A-Lot stood up on his back paws, the cat’s front set on the edge of the marble structure. He had expressed concerns about Anders getting into a tub filled with water and seemed determined not to let him out of his sight as long as the vampire insisted on doing so.

“Sure you don’t wanna hop in here with me? The water is nice and toasty. You like toasty.” Anders said making a ‘come here’ motion with his hand.

 _I like toasty and dry._ Pounce replied stiffly, but he edged closer around the tub all the same so Anders could pet him.

“Aw, poor wittle Pouncey doesn’t like his fur getting all soggy? Hmmm?”

_No._

“Fine, I guess I’ll just have to enjoy it for both of us, then.”

Pounce mrrred in agitation, tail twitching back and forth against the amber tiles of the floor.

_Are we going to Tevinter? It is toasty there too._

Anders bit his lip thoughtfully. He had been seriously considering it. In Tevinter, he could have a new start and be among his own kind for a change. Technically, he wouldn’t have to work as long as Dorian didn’t object to having bagged blood shipped in every couple of weeks. It was a tempting prospect, no doubt about it.

_But. . .Meredith and justice for Karl._

Anders scritched the skin behind Pounce’s ear as he nodded. It was not the first time his cat had shown a penchant for knowing exactly what Anders was thinking and feeling, but it was the first time he acknowledged the real reason Anders hung around the cesspool of Kirkwall despite having much better prospects.

“Yeah.” he sighed again.

_Let me look for her. I can bring you right to her door. The hunter need not know._

“I can’t let you do something that dangerous. What if the shelter picks you up? Or stray cats give you a hard time? Or a little girl on her way home from school gets hold of you? You know how weak you are for belly rubs.”

_It will be the quickest way._

“No. I forbid it.”

Ser Pounce-A-Lot bristled, but acquiesced to Anders’ command.

“I appreciate you wanting to help,” Anders told him gently, “but I really don’t like it. With our luck, she probably hates cats as well and would kill you just for being in the area. Best you stay well out of harm’s way.”

“Who’s harming what now?”

Anders jumped, making the water sway and Pounce totter back, swiping at his nose where foamy suds had been dabbed on it with the movement. The feline streaked, sneezing, out of the bathroom, nearly running into Hawke’s leg in the process.

“Oh, whoops. Probably should have knocked, huh?” she asked, looking sheepish in the doorway.

“It’s _your_ bathroom.” Anders laughed, trying to steady his nerves.

“Well, yeah, but ‘mi casa’ and all that. Enjoying yourself? Aside from me barging in and sending your pussy hieing for the hills, I mean?”

“Must you call them that? I’m beginning to think you just really like that word.”

“You’re wrong.” She gave him a shit-eating grin as she tossed her loose dark hair over her shoulder and came fully into the room. “I _love_ that word. Besides, it’s partly out of some weird, psychologically messed up regret, Merrill thinks.”

“‘Regret’?”

“I never took the opportunity to try a strap-on with you.” Hawke said, tracing a fake tear down her cheek. “We always talked about it, but never did.”

Fighting down a blush, Anders asked,

“I assume you and Merrill don’t…?”

“Oh, all the time. It would have been…different with you, though.”

“Because I don’t have the natural equipment for being penetrated, you mean.”

“I could have taken _hours_ with you, Anders.” Hawke whined. “It would have been magical. Anytime I try and take my time with Merrill she either falls asleep or tells me she’s going to if I don’t pick up the pace.”

“She knows what she wants, at least. That’s a good thing.” Anders said.

Hawke’s full pout morphed into a warm smile.

“Sometimes she even knows more about what I want than I do. She really is amazing. Even if she _is_ moreimpatient than you.”

“Oh gag. You two being cute is going to put me off my dinner. Stop it.”

“Please, like you’re not hopelessly romantic ever.” Hawke snorted, sitting on the closed toilet lid across from him.

“I’m not.” Anders said, teasing. “I’m passionately romantic. There’s a difference.”

“Well, excuse me. I didn’t realize there were levels to this sort of thing.”

“Yup. Novices are hopelessly romantic. People who’ve been with this crap for a while, we know better than to get carried away.”

“Uh-huh. Is that why we are currently enjoying an extended sleepover here at my house so your elf has to send me love notes to pass along?” she asked, raising a slim brow at him.

“What?” Anders asked, feeling his stomach give a lurch.

“By the way, Fenris wants you to call him.” Hawke continued without missing a beat.

“Wait, hold on. What are you talking about? Did Merrill pick something up from him or. . . ?”

“If she has, she’s sure as shit not saying so. No,” she began fiddling with a lock of her hair－a sure sign she was more rattled than she was allowing herself to appear. “He found us. At the docks. He looks a fucking mess, Anders.”

Anders’ heart jumped up to join his stomach in its rebellion.

“What. . .is he. . .?”

“Well, he was skinny before, but I don’t think elves are supposed to get _that_ skinny. Judging by the circles under his eyes, I don’t think he’s been sleeping much either, so I don’t even really know how he’s moving around, to be honest. What _did_ you guys fight about?”

Anders couldn’t speak. Guilt had clogged his throat and his fingers itched for his phone.

“You never told me.” Hawke prompted, watching his face. “Did he leave your blood out or something because if that’s why he’s like this, that’s kinda－”

“No. No, we. . .had a couple of. . .species differences.”

“‘Species differences’? Like what?”

Anders sank under the water to avoid having to answer right away. As the water filled his ears his mind raced with all the ways this conversation could go wrong. Hawke was by no means stupid. If Anders gave her even a small reason to suspect Fenris of anything nefarious, she would run with it. . .all the way to Fenris’ home to drain him dry.

Then there was the matter of Fenris’ health. Or lack thereof, if Hawke was to be believed. Anders couldn’t understand. Why was the hunter behaving so recklessly? He should be thrilled Anders was out of his pearly hair for the time being, not tracking him down and demanding to speak with him. It just didn’t make any sense.

Unfortunately, it seemed if Anders wanted answers, then he was going to have to contact Fenris for them.

He emerged from the water, still at a loss for words and panting. He pushed his dripping hair out of his face and nearly jumped at the sight of a criminally fluffy towel held in front of him.

“Here,” Hawke said, her eyes boring into his own. “Hop out and get dressed. We need to talk about something.”

“It’s not about strap-ons, is it?” Anders asked, accepting the towel carefully so as not to drop it into the water, “I’m afraid my experience with them is kind of limited.”

Hawke just stared at him.

“Not strap-ons then? Okay. I was afraid of that.”

He dried off slowly enough to earn a few lingering glances and a whistle from Hawke, but threw on his t-shirt and sweats with less ceremony when she aimed her phone at him and said that he was taking too long.

“You really think Merrill would be okay with you keeping nudes of me on your phone?” he asked.

“Totes. I’m sending her copies for hers now.”

“Heeeey.”

“Don’t worry, I took nothing below the belt. She says you’re really pretty.”

Well, that was something at least, Anders supposed.

He drained the tub and followed Hawke out to the room she shared with Merrill, who was sitting on one corner of the sizable bed with a tome of a book propped open on her crossed legs that she appeared to be pouring over. Hawke regarded her with a fond look.

“I asked Orana for some interesting elf history book recs for Merrill a few days ago and, Maker, does that woman always fucking deliver. Good thing Bethy’s expecting, though, or she’s not going to have anyone in the house to cook for.” she explains at Anders’ puzzled expression.

“Won’t she like not having so much to do, though?” he asked.

“Are you kidding me? I tried _paying_ her to leave and find another job and she turned me down. Mom even offered to pay her way through college. Orana says she _likes_ cooking and cleaning for our family.” Hawke said with a look like she just couldn’t understand it. “I think she just gets lonely with her dad and sisters gone and she’s never had to live on her own before so at this point we just let her think she’s paying us for staying here.”

“You don’t take rent from her, though, do you?”

“Why would we? We have the money. We have the space. Mom and Bethy both love making her over. Carver loves her food. Well, when he was able to eat it, he did. Merrill and I love that she feels so at home here. I’ve seen Gamlen turn into a blushing, stuttering mess around her, nevermind she likes Charade more. Even Reave loves her. It’s one big love fest in this place. You stick around long enough this time, we’ll be adopting you too.”

“I’ll pass, much as I like you all, I still don’t think I’m someone you should be adopting.” Anders only half-joked.

“Too bad. You’re already on the Wintersend card.” Hawke told him with a wink.

Anders couldn’t help but smile.

“Now,” she began, sitting down next to Merrill and patting the bed space in front of her, “get your brush.”

Apprehensive, but excited at the prospect of a bit of friendly grooming, Anders did as she asked, handing it to her and settling where she indicated.

At first, there was nothing but companionable silence between the three of them as Hawke carefully untangled Anders’ hair with the brush and her fingers. It was so peaceful that Anders’ eyes had just started to drift closed when, finally, Hawke asked,

“So. . .you and Fenris are bonded?”

Anders jerked awake so hard, his shoulder cracked.

“Did _he_ tell you that?”

“No.” Hawke said, still brushing, but not elaborating.

“There’s no point trying to deny it, is there?”

“Not really.”

Anders heaved a sigh.

“Look, I’m not going to give you a lecture or anything.” Hawke assured him. “Fenris seems like he’s. . .well, he seems to like you a lot. Don’t you think it’s kind of. . .idunno. . .soon?”

“Why, Geldina,” Anders said, turning slightly to look at her and batting his lashes, “are you jealous over li’l old me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Hawke laughed, pushing on his shoulder to make him turn back around. “I know how to accept defeat, and you never looked at me the way you look at him anyway.”

“And how do I look at him?”

“The same way he looks at you, with these adorable, so-in-love puppy eyes. _I_ should be the one gagging.”

“We don’t do that.” Anders scoffed.

“Yes, you do.” Merrill said, without looking up from her book. “It’s really cute.”

“There you go,” Hawke said, setting the brush down next to Anders thigh. “my telepathic mate has spoken.”

Anders rolled his eyes, exasperated with the pair of them. Really, he should just be grateful that at least one secret was safe, but Hawke was not going to make this easy.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have gotten so handsy if I’d known. What,” Hawke paused, and Anders felt her start to braid his hair. “did you think I wouldn’t approve or something?”

“Not exactly, no.”

“Then why?”

A half-truth never hurt anyone, Anders told himself.

“Fenris, despite all appearances, is kind of. . .traditional, Hawke.”

“‘Traditional’ how?”

“I mean, he doesn’t mind a bond, but. . .he’s not really okay with certain vampy things. It squicks him out.”

Hawke was quiet for so long following that statement that, if Anders didn’t know her better, he would think her curiosity was finally satisfied. He was never that lucky, though.

“What?” her voice had taken on an edge that put Anders in the mind of danger sirens ringing.

“Fenris isn’t really comfortable with me feeding in the usual way is all. Aside from him sometimes, which isn’t that weird with bonded couples.” Anders hoped if he downplayed it enough, she would just let it go.

“Oh, is that all?” Hawke asked, her tugs on his hair becoming significantly harder, “I thought you were going to say he didn’t care for capes or dark crypts.”

So much for that thought.

“Gel. . .”

“No, don’t ‘Gel’ me, Anders. The man hates you for what you are, _how_ can you be okay with that?”

She released his hair and Anders chanced a look over his shoulder at her. The dark expression she was directing at him did not build his confidence any.

“It isn’t like that.”

“Then tell me what it’s like because this guy sounds an awful lot like a bigot to me.” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You know we’re still _legally_ hunted here, right? It’s hardly bigotry when the law of the land backs it up.” Anders said.

“Would you listen to yourself. That’s not true and you know it, Anders. What would Karl say if he were alive－”

“Well, he’s not.” Anders just barely kept from growling. Hawke flinched.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. . .that wasn’t fair.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Anders sighed. “You’re not wrong, though. It isn’t right.”

“Then why are you with him?”

This question came from Merrill, drawing both of their gazes to her. Eyes an even deeper shade of green than Fenris’ peered at him over the binding of the book, arched brows crinkled in innocent curiosity.

“I. . .” Anders began, trailing off.

Because it was easier? No, being with Fenris had proven itself anything but easy. Because he had to? As the last two weeks had proven, Anders could run and hide from him pretty well if he wanted. Because he needed the blood? Pffft. Everyone knew that wasn’t true either.

If he wasn’t honest, Anders _wanted_ to be with Fenris. Some chaotic force driving them together since the night the elf had broken into his home to kill him and Anders had spared him rather than snapped his neck and disposed of the body, like any sensible vampire would have done. He wanted to hear of Fenris’ past, wanted to hear tales of his hunts if only to feel relief that Fenris had survived them, wanted Fenris in his apartment and avoiding his cats like plague, wanted Wicked Grace nights together with Varric and Isabela even if he never won. Anders wanted all the playful kisses and fresh blood and wonderful sex with the hunter who had bound them together. He wanted to be near Fenris despite their differences and feel loved in return.

The realization just made him feel a mixture of giddy and terrified.

“You should call and tell him all those things.” Merrill said, her eyes flicking back down to her page. “He needs to hear how much you care, even if you can’t be with him right now. I would tell him about Karl too, if you want him to understand.”

“Wait, did I miss something?” Hawke asked, glancing between her mate and Anders.

“Nothing you didn’t already know.” Merrill said.

Anders got to his feet, a little unsteady. He needed his phone, needed to hear. . .no. He was too raw at the moment. First thing’s first.

“I am going to get some blood. Want any?” he asked, slowly making his way over to the door.

“Nope. Still full. All that bagged stuff is yours, anyway.” Hawke told him.

Anders snorted. _As if I can drink it all._

The fridge was filled with far more blood than Anders would actually need during his stay. Shelf upon shelf stacked neatly, but completely, with medical bags of a variety of types despite his insistence to stick to basics. Anders shook his head at the wastefulness of it; Hawke had better plan to donate whatever he didn’t take back to the community.

Sighing, he pulled out two bags at random and ripped them open over a cereal bowl. As he squeezed them out, he thought about what exactly he was going to tell Fenris when he called, if he even called at all. Texting would be easier for hiding just how desperate he was to be back in the hunter’s arms again, would put some distance between them at least. Anders was still upset about Meredith after all.

Fenris _had_ hurt him, but it wasn’t as though Anders hadn’t seen it coming. It was just as things were with hunters sometimes. If one was of a supernatural persuasion, they hated their guts.

Of course, if Anders felt Fenris hated him at all, it would be infinitely easier to resist the request to talk. As it stood, the bond had not once boiled with the barely contained resentment of the night Anders fled _SatFest_. Mostly, what he felt was hurt. A little guilt and wistfulness to make things even more more confusing. Fenris had been drinking going by the hazy warmth Anders picked up when checking the bond, but in his rare sober moments, an achy sort of cavity opened in Anders’ chest. As though Fenris reached into his ribs and yanked out his heart.

Despite all this, Anders hesitated. Bonding was known as the most powerful and dangerous gift vampires possessed for this very reason. It kept those bonded complacent and dependant on one another to help prevent the madness that happened to strike many older vampires. The loneliness said to eat away at their sanity eventually became too much otherwise. While vampires could not have children due to their unique biology, taking a mate or creating a Childe were the typical ways to prevent such a fate. Anders’ previous clanmates had regaled him with tales of their former leader, Uldred, who had begun to show signs of it decades after his mate, Emeric, was slaughtered by a rival clan. So obsessed with vengeance, Uldred even began to kill off members of his own clan to assuage his hurt. It wasn’t until Karl staged a coup against him that the clan was able to return to peace.

Vampires of all ages were often encouraged to bond, make a Childe, or go to ground to prevent such massacres and war among their kind, though the decline really didn’t begin until about the fifth-hundred year. Many thought it was never too early to start trying to find someone suitable to spend eternity with.

Anders set his bowl in the microwave with a plate over it to prevent splattering. He was a long way from his fifth age, but maybe, just maybe he had found someone suitable. Fenris was not Karl, however. Intelligent and shrewd as Fenris was, he was so plagued by dislike and mistrust for everything Anders was, it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to Turn. Not even to preserve whatever it was they had. No, the bond they shared was much more of a one-sided leash than a way to ensure their survival and the idea didn’t sit well with Anders at all. That just left them with the option of trying to break the bond and that really wasn’t much of a choice either. The only way Anders knew to break a bond was death. Of one or more parties. Much as he didn’t relish the idea of killing Fenris to free him, Anders wasn’t sure he wanted to die either. Right after Karl’s death? Sure. Anders had done plenty of suicidal, stupid shit in some vain hope of joining his beloved on the other side. Before Ser Pounce-A-Lot found him, Anders had been two steps above feral beast. He wasn’t sure what kind of calming powers the feline held, but the promise of revenge for Karl had been good enough to bring him back around. Hawke had furthered that cause with her own lively energy and hatred of hunters.

There was also the fact that breaking the bond would be another blow to his psyche Anders knew he would not be able to withstand again. Breaking a bond by killing one member of it was crueler than killing them both would be by far.

Anders gulped his warmed blood down, much hungrier than he first thought, his throat still dry after finishing. A rumbling near his ankles drew his gaze down to where Ser Pounce-A-Lot stood, tail held high and slightly curled at the end.

 _You are not seriously considering returning, are you?_ he asked.

Anders sighed again.

“I am.”

_It is true that you cannot run from him forever, but do not make it so easy to murder you._

“He won’t. I think. At least, not yet.”

 _The hatred he holds for your kind is still so strong._ The cat spoke, moving to rub himself against Anders’ legs. _He demands justice and deserves it as much as you do._

“How come you know so much?” Anders asked, reaching down to pet him.

_I hear the cries of those who have been wronged and the hurt they wish righted. It is what drives me. This need for. . .justice._

“Sounds like a spirit of some sort but they’ve been locked away a long, long time.”

_Yes. I know this too. I am unsure how I know._

“Maybe you’re possessed by one.” Anders quipped.

Pounce merely stared at him as if considering the concept. His blue eyes flashed mysteriously for a moment as if having a revelation and he purred.

_It feels right. Perhaps I am. My purpose is to keep you from killing yourself with your bad decisions. It would be unjust._

“Gee, thanks.”

A _mrrrp_ was all he received in response.

 

*~*

 

Anders stared at his cellphone on his comforter and attempted to pick it up for the sixth time to dial Fenris’ number. He wanted to call. He did. He thought he did. Maybe he didn’t. No, he didn’t want to. It would be too much. He wasn’t ready.

Dropping his head down on his knees, Anders cursed his cowardice. Maybe he should just go to Tevinter, after all.

The sudden ringing of his phone nearly gave him a heart attack as he snapped his head up to look at it.

The phone continued to ring, the upbeat keyboard tune sounding much more like a funeral dirge as Anders stayed where he was. It truly had no right to frighten him as much as it did. Then again, he was being a bit of a baby.

Slowly, Anders uncurled his arm from around his knees to pick up the vibrating device, eyes going to the caller ID automatically.

It was Hawke.

Fear melting into bewilderment, Anders answered it.

“Hello?”

“Whatever emotional roller coaster you’re riding needs to stop,” came Hawke’s exasperated voice. “It’s distracting my mate from a mind-shattering orgasm.”

“Hawke!” Merrill’s voice squeaked, sounding mortified.

Anders couldn’t help the nervous laughter that bubbled up at that. Much as he wasn’t fond of the idea of Merrill knowing what was going on in his head, it was exactly the call he needed to show him how ridiculous he was being.

“I’ll try putting the brakes on.” he promised.

“You do that or I’m going to track Fenris down and put him out of all our miseries.”

She hung up and Anders did his best not to start giggling again or think too hard about what she and Merrill were getting up to as opened up his messenger.

 _A message will be easier than a call._ he reasoned, typing ‘Hi.’ before immediately deleting it.

_Too casual._

He typed ‘You wanted to talk to me?’ then deleted that too.

_Too confrontational._

Anders tried eight more times to articulate friendly curiosity before he eventually just sent an emoji with the tongue sticking out. Honestly, he needed a nap.

Fenris’ response came far too quickly to be healthy and Anders jumped again at his meowing phone.

>>Anders? Is this really you?<<

Frustrated anew by his lack of communication skills, Anders replied.

>>they dont have a little tired nurse one so i made do<<

>>It is you then.<<

 _Smartass._ Anders thought fondly.

>>May I call you? I am a bad texter and want to hear your voice.<<

Anders hesitated replying. He wasn’t against talking, but he could swear Fenris had that same ability as Hawke: Anders had difficulties saying ‘no’ when listening to his voice.

>>sure. just dont do the growly thing…or yell at me<< Anders texted.

His phone rang almost immediately. Taking a deep breath he didn’t need, Anders answered it.

“Hello?”

“‘Growly thing’?” Fenris asked, sounding very growly already. Anders shivered.

“Just don’t do it.”

“I don’t even know what _it_ is.”

“Good and I’m not telling you because you’ll use it against me.” Anders said, sounding petulant to even his own ears. “You have quite enough power over me as it is.”

There was a pause before Fenris said, “fine. How are you?”

“You know very well.”

“I still wish to hear you say it.”

Anders huffed. “Terrible. There. Satisfied?”

“Not really. You are well fed, at least?”

“You really don’t think much of Hawke, do you?”

And extended silence and a drop of something murderous in the bond said it all.

“She is feeding you then? Her mate really doesn’t mind?”

Anders only just suppressed his laughter at the accusation in Fenris’ voice.

“Merrill is pretty generous.” he teased. Letting his voice drop into a lower register, he continued. “She and Hawke have to hunt every night just to keep up with our. . .appetites.”

The resulting curse and flare of hurt in the bond accompanied a strange crunching sound that gave Anders the impression that Fenris had snapped his phone in two.

“Relax. I’m still on the wagon. Not that that’s any of your business, you jealous ass.”

Anders took sadistic pleasure in the embarrassment slowly seeping into him like the effects of Fenris’ recent drinking. Rearranging himself on his borrowed bed, he settled in for a long discussion despite still having to fight his instinct to toss his phone into Lake Champion in self-preservation.

“I am not je－I am glad you called me.” Fenris finally said, voice tense.

Not quite ready to get to the meat of their troubles, Anders said, “you know, I’ve been meaning to ask, why do you talk like that?”

A pause. Then a slightly offended, “Like what?”

“Like,” Anders made a gesture, remembered Fenris could not see him and said, “proper. Stiff proper.”

“You would prefer me to sound like a typical Kirkwaller? Or. . .uneducated?”

The brief flare of anger in his chest had Anders scrambling to assure him.

“Maker, no, I didn’t mean. . .you just seem like you never grew up around much slang is all. I mean, I grew up on a farm so maybe it’s just me, but hearing Common spoken so well－”

“－by an elf.” Fenris said.

“－by someone who isn’t a grandpa is kind of weird. I’m the old one of the two of us, remember?”

Another pause. When Fenris finally spoke again, there was a note of something strange in his voice.

“I sound _old_?”

“No! I didn’t mean－”

Laughter down the phone made Anders stop, panic rolling through him in waves.

“You _do_ know Common isn’t my first language, don’t you? Or even my second. If I seem awkward at it, it is because I still think in Tevene, mostly.” Fenris informed him patiently. “Common’s rules are fresh to me so I do not feel confident breaking them as often.”

“O-oh.”

Anders had almost completely forgotten Fenris hailed from Tevinter since the elf was not anything like the typical well-dressed, anxious, snotty socialites Anders had come across from the place. Then again, vampires tended to travel in much higher circles than non-immortals.

Briefly, he wondered if Fenris would have an advantage if he did decide to flee to Tevinter. Fenris had made it seem as though he would rather gut himself than ever return, but with a strained bond and the “threat” of Anders being free on his shoulders, he might just find it in himself to do so.

“What are you thinking so hard about? I feel as though someone is tapping my skull with a hammer.” Fenris asked, jerking Anders back to the present.

“That’s the first time you’ve acknowledged it.” he said, unable to keep the note of fondness out of his voice. “And we were doing so well.”

“Hard to ignore it when someone is connected so thoroughly to you.”

“I’ve only been doing it out of respect for you.” Anders admitted, shoving down the fluttering of his stomach at Fenris’ comment.

“I do not want you to.” Fenris said.

“Don’t want what now?”

“You should not suppress things for my sake. It is a part of your nature.”

“Since when do _you_ embrace my nature?” Anders asked, disbelieving. “Last time we saw each other, my ‘nature’ was the most unforgivable thing in the world to you.”

The following silence was the longest yet. So much for avoiding the dragon in the room. Anders was just beginning to think Fenris had hung up when he spoke again,

“Anders. I did try to feed you.”

“Something you enjoy anyway.” Anders reminded him.

“I do not want to fight with you.”

“I’d settle for an apology, honestly.”

“For saving your life?” Fenris asked.

“For getting in my way.”

“Your way? To a swift death? Anders, Meredith is not a hunter to try your luck against.”

Anders huffed out a breath, willing his heart to slow. He had struggled to get the best of her, true, but if he died, so what? The point still stood that Fenris had no right.

“I just need to catch her off-guard－”

“Meredith is _never_ ‘off-guard’.” Fenris’ timbre was swiftly entering ‘growly’ territory. “You were seconds from losing your damned head. If I hadn’t intervened－”

“－you would have one less problem when the bond broke.” Anders said flatly.

Said bond seemed to recoil from the very idea, making him flinch a little.

“Is that. . .really what you believe?” Fenris asked quietly. The hurt in his voice and the bond had Anders squirming.

“Of course,” he replied, going for casual, but it came out more tired than anything. “you only bonded with me to leash me. Unless ‘saving my life’ was intended to make us even, you don’t really benefit from it. We’re more even than we were before.”

“Anders. . . .”

“Don’t worry about hurting my feelings; I never expected anything more from this arrangement.” Anders laughed if only to try and hold back the flood of disappointment that threatened to drown him.

“I have not been attempting to pay you back, Anders. I do not even hold it against you that we are bonded. That was my decision.”

“Like taking out Meredith was mine? Talk about a double standard.” Anders muttered.

“That is not the same thing.” Fenris’ tone was a shadow of its usual confrontational self, but no less adamant. “She would have killed you, no question. Between her experience and your starvation, it was hardly an even match.”

“Hey, I’m just a little rusty. Give me a couple more days sucking bags here and a few push-ups and that bitch won’t know what hit her. Spoilers: It’ll be me.”

“She will still butcher you. Without mercy.”

“Not if I don’t give her the chance.” Anders argued. Arguing was easy, familiar. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as acknowledging how little his bondmate believed in him, at any rate.

Fenris released a long-suffering breath on the other end of the line.

“We are getting absolutely nowhere with this conversation.” he said.

“Well, we could. . .if _someone_ would just say they’re sorry already and leave well enough alone in the future.”

“You know I cannot let you－”

“Let’s get at least one thing straight－and I never say that lightly, _bi_ the way－you don’t ‘ _let_ ’ me do shit, Ser. I do whatever I damn well please as both a fearsome monster of childhood fantasy and a capable adult. Don’t forget: I am rightfully old enough to be your grandfather, elf or no.” Anders said, annoyed.

The laughter that came back at him did little to cool the ire he nursed like a lifeline even if it was the last thing Anders expected to hear.

“That is the first time you have acknowledged it.” Fenris parroted, still laughing.

“Oh, fuck you. I’m fine as fuck for ninety and you know it.”

Despite wanting to sock Fenris in his (beautiful, and still laughing) face for trying to dictate his actions, Anders allowed himself a small smile he knew he would never see. The things that made his elf laugh. Honestly.

Anders froze. ‘His elf’? The fuck had that happened? Fenris was not ‘his’ any more than Anders was ‘his’, regardless of what his fool heart and the bond might wish. _The hunter_ , he reminded himself, _is a ball and chain with a handy little explosive installed._ Anders was going to get himself either heartbroken or killed if he ever forgot that. Damn if he hadn’t already come close to doing both.

“It’s getting pretty late for me.” Anders said, barely glancing at the analog clock on the night stand. “You should probably get back to whatever poor soul you’re sending back to the Maker tonight.”

“I am not working tonight, actually.” Fenris said quickly.

“Oh.” Anders shifted down onto his side, tugging a pillow over to cuddle into. “That’s a surprise. Most nights you’re more bloodthirsty than I am.”

There came the odd flinching again. Anders ignored it as best as he was able, too tired for tact. “Guess chatting up the vampire you’re sort of involved with would be sort of awkward when you’re staking another one, though.”

“Anders, I am _trying_.”

“I. . .I know. I’m sorry.”

“I will not lie, it is difficult to see you as－”

“A living, intelligent being with hobbies and desires outside of killing? I kind of picked up on that.” Anders said, stifling a yawn.

“I was going to say, someone not Void-bent on destroying everything I have worked so hard to obtain and keep.”

Anders snorted.

“Oh no, better hide your spouses and toddlers, it’s the worst vampire of them all! The kind that patches up grumpy elves and blows them without even a proper date first!” Anders announced, unable to hold back the laughter the ridiculous thought conjured.

Despite a brief flare of warmth in the bond, Fenris did not sound amused. “You are aware that your flippancy is not making forgiving you an easy task?”

“You need. . .to forgive _me_? What, in the name of Andraste’s scorched knickerweasles have _I_ done?”

“Attacked a co-slayer, yelled at me when I was only trying to help, nearly revealed yourself to Isabela, _revealed_ yourself to Varric－who is taking it shockingly well, all things considered－ran off without telling me where you were going, you are with Hawke. Need I go on?” Fenris rattled off.

“Okay, back the fuck up and let’s unpack that, shall we? You claim not to be a fan of Meredith, but consider her, what, a hunter-in-arms?” Anders said, sitting back up slowly, temper teetering dangerously on the edge of pissed off.

“In a manner of speaking.” Fenris said. “I may not approve of her methods, but she is effective at what she does.”

Anders would be revisiting _that_ bit of fuckery when he didn’t feel so much like biting through his damn pillow. “And yelling at you? Really? What was all that shit about your friends ‘respecting you and your decisions’ again? Or do they only ‘respect’ them when it’s a dirty secret?”

“That is not what I meant－”

“For the last time: where I go and what I do are not up for you to decide. Hawke has absolutely _nothing_ to do with this so leave her fucking be.” Anders knew he was yelling and should probably just hang up and get a new number, but what the fuck was the point of having good sense? It had never served him well in his life and he wasn’t about to start trusting it now.

Fenris’ tone was laced with venom when he threw back, “for all I am aware, you could be colluding on some way to break the bond with me and flee to Tevinter. That is why keeping in touch with me is so important. Otherwise, I am not sure what to think.”

It was too close to home. Anders couldn’t help it. He _snapped_.

“Well, I’ll make this easy for us then.” he growled, feeling slick heat tracking down his face as something in him broke. “When I get to Tevinter, I’ll make sure to send you a postcard of me fucking and feeding off every vampire in a twenty mile radius. Then maybe you can get the Void over yourself and find someone else to put up with your insecure bullshit.”

The crack of touchscreen glass and thunk of cheap imported metal as Anders’ phone sank cleanly into the drywall on the other side of the room was not as satisfying as it should have been.


End file.
